Deductive Thought
by GuidingHand
Summary: Snape has been mentoring and assiting Harry (prior stories: Forbidden and Goals & Privileges). Now Harry is living with Sirius and it is the year of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Harry and Snape use deductive thought to solve the problems and challenges they are presented with throughout the year.
1. Escaping and Intruding

Authors Assumption: You know the story of the Goblet of Fire. Therefore, it is okay for me to reference some of the major events without rehashing them. For example, I don't feel the need to rewrite the events of the World Cup as doing so doesn't effect the plot of this story. There will simply be a statement indicating when in the storyline that it happened.

* * *

Deductive Thought: Prologue

* * *

A white owl sped across the midday sky, swooped through a window and lit on a spoon aside the white bearded ones plate. Hedwig allowed Albus to remove the letter from her talon, then she nipped a piece of bacon from within the wizard's BLT, flapped her wings and took flight out into the daylight.

The train had left a few hours earlier. Only the staff remained, enjoying their final luncheon of the school year.

Albus's brow furrowed as he read...

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_Over the past two years, Professor Snape has made it indelibly clear to my rear that I am not permitted to take any action which may be detrimental to my well being. To negate the potential of future blisterings..._

Albus paused mid sentence, "Severus, have you been administering smackings to the students?"

Snape picked up a crisp from his plate, "Students are the ones that read books, write essays, and partake in practicums." _Crunch, crunch, crunch_, "Children are the beings with minuscule brains that have yet to develop the cognitive ability to process complex abstract thoughts such as Forbidden Forest equals mean monsters that will eat me, but are capable of comprehending the more simplistic concrete concept of Forbidden Forest equals stinging backside."

Remus nearly chocked on his sandwich then struggled to hold back a laugh at Snape's description.

Albus had segued back to reading the letter, half listening as Snape continued his explanation. "Well, from what young Mr. Potter has written he seems to be processing those abstract thoughts you spoke of, so perhaps such punishments are no longer needed in this case."

Snape only gave a slight hum of agreement. Mentally, he rolled his eyes. Great, the Headmaster's reading comprehension level was equivalent to a third year. Did he completely miss that it was the fear of the concrete punishment that had caused the brat to actually think through his options?

_Mr. Fuss _had appeared in his office the day before unexpectedly and immediately began to pace agitatedly. Malfoy jr, had been meeting with him at the time and had sneered, "Potter, what are you doing here?"

"Detention," was the turt reply.

"On the last day of term? No wonder you're so snarly. Was there anything else you needed of me, Professor?"

"That will be all, Draco."

The blonde vacated the room.

"I didn't assign you a detention Potter, though I should for you barging in without knocking. What are you doing here?"

The pacing continued. "_He_ says I'm safest with _them_. Insist that I should go back." Harry gesticulated wildly and his movements became more agitated. "Something about bloody wards that exist due to me calling it home. Home! What was I supposed to call home? A cupboard with a crib mattress on the floor, a Hoover in the corner and spiders creeping down the walls?" The short, tight turns and fast moves, was starting to irritate Snape. "Just like every bloody person in this society, so stuck in their own world that they're clueless to the dangers of the other."

"Sit down."

Harry ignored him as he continued his rant and floor wearing. "I don't care what he says, I'm not going back."

"Sit down," Snape said more firmly.

Harry acted like he hadn't heard. The air around him was beginning to crackle with energy. "Why is it th..." Harry bumped into Snape who had moved into his path.

Snape put a finger under Harry's chin, lifted it, glared and distinctly repeated, "Sit down."

Harry obeyed, but his whole body seemed to be struggling with the restriction as every muscle was vibrating. His fist repeatedly clinched and released.

"Calm yourself."

Harry glared up at the only adult he'd ever sought, and actually received, help from. The two said nothing, just stared daggers at each other.

"Head down."

Harry looked ready to slam his fist on the table and his feet on the floor. But did neither. Nor did he put his head on the table, but his muscles continued to vibrate with tension.

"Nothing will be resolved while you are in this state. You can choose to have a tantrum and deal with the consequences of those actions or you can choose to obey, so you can clear your head enough to figure out a plot. Your choice." Snape broke the glaring contest and went to his potion stores. "What is with teenagers? Can't they pick a mood and stick with it?" Snape muttered. He was fairly certain he had chosen grumpy and sarcastic at about 15 and had been so ever since. _Mr. Fuss_ on the other hand, was an adult avenging his parents death one hour, a giddy 8 year old hyped up on junk food the next, two hours after that he was a teenager sassing back after a well deserved wallop, and now a three year old up past nap time. Snape closed his eyes and rested his head on a shelf for a moment. "What have I gotten myself into?" One day's help, two at the most assisting Lily's son was all he ever intended. Then the damn brat attached himself to him. Letters. Lessons. Advice. A place to stay when he runs away. Hell, all the headaches of replacing teachers all trailed back to the fussy three year old sitting in the other room. The challenge had been fun. It'd been years since his skills had been needed. Maybe that was why he kept letting the boy look to him for help? Snape sighed and pulled a calming draft from the shelf. He exited the storage cupboard to the sounds of ... snoring.

28 minutes later Harry groggily tried to make sense of the quill and parchment in front of him. A line divided the page in two and each side had a heading: Stay...Move. Once he determined Snape's intention, Harry folded his arms across his chest and looked on with fury at the older man. "I'm not going back to the Dursley's. I don't care what the Headmaster says."

"That's because he hasn't given you reason to care about his opinion. Mine, however, you should care about." Snape tilted his head, "What will I do if you make a rash decision that could put you in danger."

Harry blushed and mumbled, "You'll paddle me."

"Then I suggest you start writing so you can make a wise decision rather than one that could be detrimental to your comfort."

"Staying with Sirius is about comfort. The Dursley's hate me."

"And what do you know of your Godfather?"

"He's fun. He's nice. He likes me."

Snape huffed, "He's reckless. He's spiteful. He's bigoted. You've spent, what, a whole three hours with him? How will he treat you when you screw up? Do you agree on the same fundamental principles? A year ago you complained to me that adults don't care about kids, that they don't make smart decisions when it comes to the safety of children. Was he looking out for you when he left you bleeding and traumatized so that he could seek revenge? Had he stayed with you instead of acting rashly you probably never would have even met the Dursleys. Make the lists. Then make your decision."

_Back in the present..._

Dumbledore continued to read.

_...I carefully thought through the negatives and positives of living with either potential guardian. Sirius is the unknown; the Dursley's the familiar. The unknown can be scary and dangerous; but likewise is the familiar. I've attempted to speak with you in the past regarding the issues with the familiar. The details mattered not to you then, so I won't hamper my hand to write them now. I understand your viewpoint on where I should live, but your opinion was formed on a grain of salt with no food to land upon. I, myself, have but an un-popped kernel of the facts as I have only briefly met my Godfather. But that kernel is enough to make me choose to leave the familiar, for what is life as an un-popped kernel of corn? Safe, but unfullfilled. I am choosing to fill my life with new experiences, for some things are worth the risk. _

_I thank you for your advice, for what is popcorn without a bit of salt? Advice should always be taken into consideration. I have considered what you said, that I am safest where my mother's blood flows. It flows inside me. I will have to trust in that to keep my blood flowing. But to live I must do more than just survive. Sirius Black is my new guardian and it is with him that I will live._

_Sincerely,_

_H.J. Potter_

_P.S. A knowledgable man lays in a stock of fish for winter. A wise one adds on a supply of vension, foraged goods, and items harvested from the fields. A leader observes and learns from each, then tosses in a batch of curiosity and innovation, forging a new trail on which he may lead. _

Dumbledore frowned over the letter. It was an uncomfortable feeling having ones advice ignored. He was also disconcerted by some of the lines in the letter, _ "The details mattered not to you..."_ What details had he ignored? _ "...to live I must do more than survive." _ How was it that boy's lines so nearly matched those in the prophecy? Dumbledore rubbed his brow. More to the point, how was it that after more than a century of working with teens he still failed to recognize that those young beings had a tendency to do the exact opposite as they were told just to prove their independence? Though his limbs twitched in need to delve into a floo and demand things go his way he subsided. He had long thought of himself as a wise leader, but at the moment he felt more like the fisherman, stocking only fish.

* * *

Chapter 1: An Intruder

* * *

_A few weeks later..._

The sun blared through the window. Snape stretched. He sniffed. Bacon? Eggs? What the...? He lived alone, so who was cooking? Snape trudged downstairs rubbing the grit from his eyes. He had an intruder, but if they were cooking they were unlikely to be dangerous.

"Good morning, sir."

How wrong he was. Snape slumped into a chair. Mornings should be outlawed. "Potter, what are you doing here?"

"Following your order, sir."

"It is to early to deduce your meaning. Explain."

"To live with an adult, sir." Harry brought the coffee and orange juice to the table.

"You live with an adult," then Snape muttered, "If you can call him that." Snape, sipped his coffee. "I take it all is not well at the dog pound?"

"It's just that...can I stay with you for a few days?"

Snape's brow crinkled, "Why here? Wouldn't the bookworm or the birth control challenged be a better choice?"

Harry hesitated, "Hermione asks too many questions and would insist 'I solve my problems by discussing them' and Ron sided with Sirius. I'm mad at both of them."

"What lesson do you want them to learn?"

Harry's eyes flashed with rightousness, but he calmly said, "Lesson, sir?"

Snape ticked off on his fingers, "You don't want to be questioned about what happened. You don't want to solve the problem through discussion. Yet you plan on returning home within a few days, which indicates you want the problem solved by then. You sought help from a person who teaches lessons. So, what is the lesson you intend for them to learn?"

"That everyone deserves respect. That no one deserves to be treated poorly. No matter what," Harry stated, firmly.

"No matter what? What if Petigrew still had his soul?"

Harry hesitated, "He deserved punishment and that is the punishment the ministry decided on. I'm sure he was less than pleased with being stuck in the owlery in his animagus form most of last year, but he always had plenty to eat and I never brought him any physical harm, nor did I ridicule him. I may hate him, but I won't let that make me become him."

"But the dog and freckled brat are in someway like him, at least in your eye."

Man and boy dug into their laden plates.

"Like Pettigrew? No. Like my relatives? Yes. I thought I was escaping the constant barrage of insults, demands and violence by moving in with Sirius. Turns out that I only escaped them being aimed at me. Well, for the most part. Mrs. Black's portrait is plenty insulting towards me. But most of it is being aimed at Kreacher from Ron and Sirius."

Snape paused, fork midair, "The house elf?"

Harry nodded. He rubbed his chest like his heart ached, voices sounded in his head, an odd mixture of Uncle Vernon, Sirius, Aunt Petunia, Ron and Dudley, "Useless freak." "Deranged." "Get lost. No one wants you here." "Why don't you go hide in your cupboard." "You don't deserve anything." "Get in here." "Do this list of chores." "Lazy brat." "It's your fault." "You're a nobody. Nothing."

Harry drew in a shaky breath. "Kreacher's odd. He's lonely. Talks to himself. Makes a lot of hateful comments. Everyone that liked him is dead and Sirius is trying to erase the memory of those people from the house. Kreacher lives in a cupboard and wears rags. They demand things of him, expect them to be done. But it never crosses their mind to say, 'Thanks'." Harry spoke in almost a whisper of a voice, "He's me."

Snape felt a brief stab of pity. "I warned you that you didn't truly know the mutt and the red head has always been an idiot."

"Can't I change them?" Harry pleaded.

"People are difficult to change. Have you not always attempted to change your relatives attitude toward you?"

Harry thought back on his childhood. He'd kept an exquisitely clean house; made meals worthy of a TV show; maintained a garden bereft of weeds and well suited for a magazine cover. His efforts were ignored, scorned, or claimed as his Aunt's own. 'Why thank you. It takes so much time, but the efforts are well worth it. It is too bad you must work and so are unable to care for your own home in such a manner,' crooned Petunia to her fellow bridge club member, who scowled in return.

His relatives seemed to take such pleasure in degrading Harry that for a time he had attempted to be as horrible as Dudley, just so he could make them pleased by giving them the enjoyment of being horrible to him. He'd purposefully smashed a vase in a fit of fake rage. He'd thrown a tantrum at the store over not being able to purchase Coco Crunch cereal and ripped the box of said cereal so it scattered across the store's floor. He'd talked back, telling his Uncle he was a, "Non-sensical walrus." Harry had endured the beatings, starvations and isolations these acts had earned him. This plan to please his guardians was dumped as a bad idea when the punishments became more than Harry was willing to endure.

Being good hadn't earned him any rewards. Trying to make them happy and simultaneously himself miserable had been more than Harry could take. Plus his heart wasn't in it to be bad. Purposefully breaking things and screaming and stomping your feet to get something just seemed...wrong. But that didn't stop Harry from desperately wanting someone to care about him.

There was the summer when he was seven when he purposefully did dangerous things in hopes they would try to stop him, try to save him. Turns out his internal magic knew this was a hopeless attempt. Harry stepped into the way of an oncoming car. The wind seemed to knock him back on his ass. Dudley laughed uproariously. Petunia looked briefly disappointed, then harangued Harry for daring to dirty the trousers she'd purchased. The disappointed look played like a loop in Harry's mind. His Aunt was disappointed he hadn't died. But the craving to be wanted continued to eat him so he broke some cardinal rules for children. He had run down the stairs with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and an open pair of scissors in his hand. The back hand to the check, followed by, "How dare you?!" nearly had Harry's heart soaring for the brief moment in which he hoped Uncle Vernon might actually care that he could have been injured, then Vernon had roared, "What if Dudley had been on the stairs! The scissors could have gone right through him!" Luckily for Harry, it had gone unnoticed by both family members that the toothbrush had vanished as he had scrambled down the steps, and the scissors, though they had come close to Harry's leg, had bounced harmlessly off his jeans. It was only now, looking back, that he realized his magic had protected him.

All his efforts were for not though. His relatives hadn't changed. They despised him and always would. And though it had never worked for him in the past, he was desperate to change two more people, because Sirius was the only person in his memory that ever treated him like family and Ron was the first person he'd ever been able to just sit and talk to, his first friend. It itched at his insides, this likeness the two had with Harry's detestable relatives.

Snape's question replayed in Harry's head, "Have you not always attempted to change your relatives attitude toward you?"

Harry slowly nodded, "Yes, and I might have failed, but you didn't. They were different last summer. More tolerant of me." Harry conveniently blocked from his mind that his relatives hadn't stayed changed, and that it was more Snape's other gifts (an unlockable door, a food box, clothes and a Y membership) that had made the situation tolerable.

Snape raised a brow as he basked in the compliment, likewise ignoring that he knew deep down that the compulsion spell and potion he had used would not have had a permanent effect. "Let's plot."

As the breakfast dishes floated to the sink Snape asked, "Is the hound going to come barking at my door?"

"Sirius?" Harry scoffed, "He thinks I'm with muggle friends. Doesn't even know me well enough to know I haven't got any."

"He bought that?"

Harry gave a flourish of a bow, "I would not deign to defile me Maestro of Deception's teachings by seeking his assistance while simultaneously failing as his pupil."

"You better not," uttered Snape.


	2. A Sirius Invasion of Privacy

Warning: swearing and drunkish behavior

* * *

Note: Italics= Harry and Snape

* * *

Harry was wrong. Sirius did know Harry wasn't with a muggle friend. Sirius was so lost. His brain had been scrambled for twelve years. He was no longer with the dementors but his brain was still awash with dark memories. His mother's pursed lips each time she saw his Gryffindor tie. Her voice screeching, "Worthless!" or "Blood traitor!" if he dared to say something nice to or about mudbloods, muggle born. Which he did on a frequent basis either to get her attention, to try to change her, or simply to annoy her. Bad attention was better than no attention. Maybe. He'd thought so at the time in any case. Until Orion Black changed Sirius' mind. Wizards had wands and his father had no qualms towards using spells as punishment. The loyal Regulus was rarely punished. The traitorous elder son felt his wrath with too frequency. At 16 he'd had enough. He'd moved out of Grimauld Place and into Potter Manor.

Sirius also remembered anger towards Snape. Anger because Snivellus held the proverbial chopping block that Remus' head lay on. Ever since that day when he'd stupidly taunted Snape into following them he'd had to worry and fear that the git would spill the beans about Remus' furry little problem. But the bat had kept his trap shut, which just pissed Sirius off more. With Snape, of all people, doing what was morally right all blame for the incident rest solely on Sirius' shoulders.

He could remember when Jenny Shoal had broken up with him. Most breakups Sirius just shrugged off. One girl down; move on to the next. Jenny had meant something. Or as best Sirius could remember she had. It seemed the only memory he had left was that of the heartbreak of losing her.

Without a doubt the memories of the Halloween that changed his life played round and round in his head. That night and all of the years after. It had been terrifying. James dead. Lilly dead. Petigrew loose. Stuck in a cage. No trial. No one interested in hearing his side. No one looking for a rat. No idea if Harry was alive, if he was safe. He had been when he'd gone chasing after the rat, but that didn't mean Harry had stayed that way.

Sirius knew he'd been a prankster and that he'd had happy times but those were just flashes of images. Remus has been working on correcting that by joining him for dinner every few nights. They'd talk. When Harry was there Remus would share stories that'd make them all laugh and that simultaneous taught Harry about his father and helped Sirius dredge up some of his better memories.

But Harry wasn't here.

Harry didn't trust him. Sirius hadn't figured out why. It was obvious Harry loved him and they had fun together. But Sirius sensed that Harry was uncomfortable at times. But Sirius couldn't put together why that was. So when Harry announced he was going to spend a week with a "muggle friend" Sirius had let him go. Sirius had certainly pulled that one plenty of times, the friends part, not the muggle. He didn't have a death wish no matter how compelled he was to rile his parents. When teens snuck out to stay with a friend they generally needed space and to be with a person they could connect with. It made Sirius ache that he wasn't that person.

He felt slightly guilty for doing what he'd done. Slightly mind you. As Harry's Godfather it was his duty to be aware of where his Godson was and what he was doing. Alright, so he felt more than slightly guilty and a bit like a dirty Snake.

Sirius had taken one of the conversation mirriors, shrunk it, put featherlight and invisibility charms on it and tucked it under the label on the back of the jeans Harry always seemed to wear. Then he'd conned Harry into saying, "Sirius" and wala! The mirrors were activated. One more spell on his end and the sound traveled only one way. There wasn't much to listen to for awhile, mostly walking and car noises, a bus ride, more walking and a door opening. Then sounds he didn't quite recognize (cooking).

_"Good morning, sir."_

Sir?

_"Potter, what are you doing here?"_

Whiskey laced tea spewed out of Sirius' mouth. Snape! Why would he have gone to Snape!? How did he even know where Snape lived? How did he get into the house!?

_"Following your order, sir."_

_"It is to early to deduce your meaning. Explain."_

_"To live with an adult, sir."_

Live with? What'd he mean live with? You live with me! Sirius' heart was racing. It took every ounce of will he had to not run out of the house and steal Harry back. But there would be no winning Harry's trust, ever, if Harry knew Sirius was spying on him.

_"You live with an adult," then Snape muttered, "If you can call him that. I take it all is not well at the dog pound?"_

"That bastard!" Sirius' fingers instinctively snatched up his wand. With Snape out of curse distance, Sirius shot a stinging hex at the foul creature, Kreacher, who had been doing as ordered by dusting the end-tables and lamps.

_"It's just that...can I stay with you for a few days?"_

_"Why here? Wouldn't the bookworm or the birth control challenged be a better choice?"_

Who was Snape talking about? "Merlin, I'm a crap Godfather." Mine something. Mione?

_"Hermione asks too many questions and would insist 'I solve my problems by discussing them' and Ron sided with Sirius. I'm mad at both of them."_

"He's mad at me? I knew he was uncomfortable about something, but mad?" pondered Sirius.

_"What lesson do you want them to learn?"_

_"Lesson, sir?"_

"Lesson?" Sirius brow furrowed.

_"You don't want to be questioned about what happened. You don't want to solve the problem through discussion. Yet you plan on returning home within a few days, which indicates you want the problem solved by then. You sought help from a person who teaches lessons. So, what is the lesson you intend for them to learn?"_

_"That everyone deserves respect. That no one deserves to be treated poorly. No matter what," Harry stated, firmly._

Sirius was baffled, what was Harry on about?

_"No matter what? What if Petigrew still had his soul?"_

Then Sirius would be standing over him pissin' on his beaten carcus, provided by his own fist.

_Harry hesitated, "He deserved punishment and that is the punishment the ministry decided on. I'm sure he was less than pleased with being stuck in the owlery in his animagus form most of last year, but he always had plenty to eat and I never brought him any physical harm, nor did I ridicule him. I may hate him, but I won't let that make me become him."_

"You could never be like him," murmured Sirius.

_"But the dog and freckled brat are in someway like him, at least in your eye."_

"I'm nothing like him," Sirius insisted to no one. He spied Kreacher listening in. "Get out of here, you little freak! Go weep into your rag nest about my dead bitch of a mother."

_"Like Pettigrew? No. Like my relatives? Yes."_

His relatives? What was up with Harry's relatives?

_"I thought I was escaping the constant barrage of insults, demands and violence by moving in with Sirius. Turns out that I only escaped them being aimed at me."_

Sirius froze, his heart thrumming in his chest.

_"Well, for the most part. Mrs. Black's portrait is plenty insulting towards me. But most of it is being aimed at Kreacher from Ron and Sirius."_

The house elf? Who gave a shit about that waste of a good cupboard?

_"The house elf?" questioned Snape._

_"Kreacher's odd. He's lonely. Talks to himself. Makes a lot of hateful comments. Everyone that liked him is dead and Sirius is trying to erase the memory of those people from the house. Kreacher lives in a cupboard and wears rags. They demand things of him, expect them to be done. But it never crosses their mind to say, 'Thanks'." Harry spoke in almost a whisper of a voice, "He's me."_

Sirius' brain wouldn't tick. Couldn't process. Then it all flooded in. Harry was abused. Belittled. Hated by his relatives. And in every action or word spoken toward Kreacher he reminded Harry of that abuse. His heart felt like it was ripped from its chest.

_"I warned you that you didn't truly know the mutt and the red head has always been an idiot."_

_"Can't I change them?" Harry pleaded._

"I'll change Harry. I swear."

_"People are difficult to change. Have you not always attempted to change your relatives attitude toward you?"_

_"Yes, and I might have failed, but you didn't. They were different last summer. More tolerant of me."_

"Fuck!" The glass in Sirius' hand went sailing across the room and crashed into the wall. He owed another damn debt to the greasy bat. While Sirius had been paying for the sin of seeking revenge, Harry, like his mother before him, had become buddies with Snivilus and Snivilus, despite hating James, had done what was morally right and helped Harry. Sirius was in a right rage. He blasted a hole in a mauve couch, shattered a decanter of golden brandy and nearly swung an arm at Kreacher, who was seemingly trying to repair as fast as Sirius destroyed. Sirius' hand fell to his side, then his body to the floor. He sobbed. Hating Snape. Hating Kreacher. Hating his swiss cheese brain. Hating himself.


	3. Plotting and a Plan

I want to think everyone who has reviewed, favorited, followed or even just read and enjoyed. Those are the true currency of FanFiction.

* * *

Snape and Harry sat, drawing utensils in hand. Across the top of Harry's paper was scrolled, _"Goal: Get Sirius and Ron to stop treating Kreacher the way the Dursley's treated me."_Snape's goal read, _"Teach the flea bag mutt to be civil."_

"Professor Stewart always has us figure out how we can use what we have learned from history in our own lives."

"Changing someone isn't easy. What have you heard of that works?" Snape magically concealed one of his pages as he sketched Tobias Snape drinking, yelling, fighting with his mum. Though he had wished his family had been different his attempts to change it had been few and futile. After his unfortunate split with Lily he turned more fully to the only support he had, that of those that sought vengance, not change.

"Well, some say you can change things with speeches, and that plays a part, because you have to get others to understand what it is you want and why you want it. But the speeches themselves rarely change anything. The speeches galvanize action in those that are already likely to agree with the speaker. It's the event that results from the speeches that does the changing. Typically, a big group has to act together to make the change." Harry drew himself and Sirius across from each other on a duvet and an arm chair with dozens of speech bubbles around Harry's head and earmuffs covering Sirius' ears. He drew a fast scribble through it in frustration. "Talk without action is just talk and people tended to ignore words that are contrary to their own."

Snape responded, "So you came to me instead of the bookworm because she would have had you try to talk them into changing their ways and talk without action has proven ineffective in the past."

"Yes, sir. Speeches require responsive audiences, willing to act," Harry smiled and blushed a little, "I thought you might be that receptive audience as you also have reason to want him to change."

"I have the option of just avoiding him, Potter."

Harry pouted a little and rolled his eyes, "But wouldn't it be satisfying to change an enemy into someone they could never see themself as?"

"Perhaps. Regardless, I've already agreed to help, Potter. So, have you discovered any actions that effectively change people?"

"Protest, violence, or a traumatic event seem to be the main motivators. Plus, whatever is done has to effect something that person cares about." Harry sketched people with picket signs, brandishing weapons and a crib with himself looking wide-eyed down at his dead mum. Harry crushed the paper into a ball and lobbed it into the flames in the fireplace.

Snape's "family portrait" followed suit moments later.

Harry asked, "What does Sirius care about, sir?"

Snape raised a brow, "You think I know?"

"You've known him for what, 40 years?"

Snape scowled, "I'm 34, Potter."

Harry growsed, "How am I to know? Adults don't go around telling kids their age."

"I was in the same year as your parents and the Mutt. You're telling me you don't know when your parents were born?"

Harry huffed, "I didn't even know their names until I was 11! I know little more now. All my Aunt and Uncle told me was they were drunks that died in a car accident."

Snape frowned at Harry's statement, then he closed his eyes, sighed and stated, "The Mutt cares about proving he has nothing in common with his biological family. For him, that translates into humiliating those that have anything in common with them. He cares about his pseudo family, which includes you."

Harry didn't like hearing this evaluation of his Godfather, but he had a teen's lifetime of experience knowing that people often aren't who you wish they were. Harry depicted himself at about the age of five, sitting in his cupboard. His knees were bent, arms wrapped about them and he sat wondering when he'd be allowed to get out. Next to that he drew Kreature lounging in his cubby with his back to the wall, eyes closed all alone for many years. Both hoping that the next person they saw would be kind to them, or at least tolerant and both knowing it was unlikely to happen.

Harry jiggled his pencil. "Even when protest or violence cause change people often resent and resist the change." Harry remembered vividly the resentful look on Aunt Petunia's face the day she'd taken him for glasses. The school had notified her that they were necessary. She found it necessary to work the cost of them out of Harry. He'd paid in chores.

Snape nodded, "And though trauma causes change, the change is unpredictable and not always for the better."

Snape sketched snakes curled up in a den, dozing when above them a vicious, drooling dog with a lion's mane shredded the roof of the den and the trapped snakes attempted to strike with their fangs. Then Snape smirked and drew a speech bubble off to the side and inscripted, "Heel!" Then adumbrated the dog barking and scampering back to its master. "He's a dog. Let's train him." Snape drew himself and Harry telling the dog to do various tricks: roll over, sit, beg...

Harry shifted in his seat awkwardly. Training the adult that was supposed to care for him felt odd and unsettleing. But the seed was planted in Harry's head. The seed grew roots and stems and leaves and twined with his mentors plots and plans.


	4. The Wee Hours

_In the wee hours of the nigh'_

_Mugs are raised,_

_Mask are shed,_

_Secrets and woes shared,_

_And if the company's right,_

_Plans are made..._

1:22 AM

Snape's arm seared. His eyes snapped open. Fear bit at his throat. A scream rent the air. Not his own. The scream abruptly ceased. Sheet flung high, he ran. "Stop!" He shouted in his head. Don't be a Gryffindor. Creeping now. An uttered spell, "huminum revealio." Only one other person. The intruder? Or an intruder and a dead former nuisance? With a spell the door slowly swung open revealing Harry alone and clutching his head.

It was a disturbing sight. Disturbing because the boy was silent. Disturbing because the boy looked so small and young. Disturbing because the boy was obviously in pain. Disturbing because when Snape's fingers brushed the child's head the boy journeyed to a corner on the opposite side of the room with such speed that Snape suspected accidental magic assisted the flight. Disturbing because the child no longer displayed pain. He displayed fear.

Snape ran a hand through his hair. "Shit." Fear wasn't something he knew how to fix; Mr. Fuss had already found a way to remove himself from his abusive home life, there was nothing left to fix.

The fear blossomed into embarasment. Snape silently acknowledge the change. Embarrassment was good. Embarrassment meant the boy knew his fear was unfounded. Best of all, embarrassment was easily solved. Just feign ignorance. Snape left the room. Perhaps he'd make cocoa.

1:28 AM

Snape shouted, "You want this hot chocolate you best get your butt down here. You're nearly fourteen. I'm not carting it up..." Harry stepped into the room. "to you," Snape finished.

It was blatantly obvious on the child's face that this was a new and slightly unsettling experience for him. When you are a loved three year old and are awoken from a bad dream or are injured you're cuddled and fawned over. But when you are thirteen and unloved the concept of someone caring enough to sit with you in the middle of the night drinking cocoa was as bizarre as people walking on the moon is to pure bloods. Snape should know. Lily had opened her door or window to him on late nights when his father binged.

1:32 AM

The brat had settled and it was time to ask, "What happened to hurt your head?"

But before he could get so much as the first syllable out Harry stated, "Your arm and my forehead hurt simultaneously," Then with narrowed eyes, "Why?"

Snape was taken aback by the boys perseptiveness. He must have held his arm while in the brat's room. Snape hesitated to answer. He drew in a sharp breath then quietly spoke, "Your life has not been all sunshine and rainbows. Yet, who did you seek assistance from? The warm, squishy always cheerful Molly Weasley? the twinkly eyed headmaster? No, you came to the dungeon bat. The most feared and despised professor this century." Snape shifted uncomfortably, "I also lacked in people who would give you more than the two fingered salute. Like you I sought assistance and a connection and found it with those whose companionship most would flee from, which I eventually fled from."

"A horse will drink from a polluted pond if there is not else to drink."

Snape nodded in response.

Silence reigned.

1:36 AM

"I saw him. Voldemort."

Snape jerked as though slapped.

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, "Heard him, really. It was odd. The voice connected to the hand was small, like a child's."

"You know his voice?"

Nod.

"How?"

"Dementors," Harry shuddered, "I hear my Mum begging him not to kill me."

Snape's eyes snapped to Harry.

"He tells her to get out of the way. She doesn't."

Harry's eyes slid down and to the right.

Snape's did the same. For the briefest of a firefly's flash he felt an odd hope because his former master had attempted to do as he had requested, had made an attempt not to kill Lily. If the Dark Lord had tried to keep his word, perhaps he wasn't to blame for Lily's death. That instant of reprieve from guilt was squished with the ferocity it deserved. No matter who carried the blade to her door he was the one who had set it swinging. He had been starved of acknowldgement, assistance, companionship, dignity. He hadn't been a snake; he'd been a puppy begging for a pat on the head. Like any good retriever he'd run off and fetched every ball, not caring or even noticing the flower beds destroyed in the chase or the holes and drool left on the ball. "Great," thought Snape, "I'm comparing myself to The Mutt."

1:41AM

Snape attempted to speak, but found he had to clear his throat, "Wh..phf...What did he say?"

Harry looked at his half mug of cocoa and spun it about in his hands, "A muggle showed up. An old guy. He had the man that was with him, McDermott, he said, told him to kill the muggle. Then told his snake to eat the guy."

"You saw this happen. The man being killed?"

Nod.

1:43

Snape noticed a leg bouncing beneath the table. "There's more."

Harry looked up. "They, they were planning something. Planning to kill, gulp, someone."

"What else aren't you telling?"

Shrug.

Snape flicked his wand at a cupboard then levitated a plate to the table, then swished at another cupboard and had a box of biscuits from a local bakery floating towards him. He placed the biscuits on the plate and touched them with a mild heating charm and a smell wafting charm. Snape kept the plate to his side of the table. He lifted a warm, soft, and ever so slightly gooey chocolate chip biscuit to his mouth and savored a bite.

"Tell all and you can share in the biscuits and finish your cocoa. Stay quiet and you'll go straight to bed."

The odd ploy actually pulled a small smile from the teen before his face again paled, "They plan to take me. Use me for something. Kill me. They're waiting until after the World Cup and he's supposed to have someone loyal at Hogwarts that will help him get me. He said many loyal servants would give their right hand to assist him. Said it with an odd tone."

Snape's brow furrowed. He shoved the cookies toward the teen. "Eat. Then we must plot."

3:18 AM

Two weary souls climbed into their beds, plots and plans swirling in each head.


	5. The Training of Sirius Black

BEWARE! This chapter contains a non-canon reaction, a non-canon solution and non-canon timing for one event. If your countenance can handle the change continue on.

* * *

Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the fun of writing the stories and discovering you've enjoyed what I have written. Praise to J.K for giving us such great characters and events to work with. :)

* * *

Harry reviewed the gist of the plan in his head while riding the muggle bus back to Grimauld Place.

Goal: Get Sirius to stop treating Kreacher the way the Dursley's treated me.

The Plan (in Snape's words): Women don't like rude, arrogant, pillocks. Convince the Mutt that he needs to be trained on how to behave. Dose him with a compulsion potion to get him to agree. Train him.

The Plan (in Harry's words): Sirius needs to have a reason to change. Women are a good reason for blokes to change. Teach Sirius how to properly treat Kreacher by telling him it is what a women would want. Hopefully Ron will change because Sirius changes. I think he is just mimicing Sirius because Sirius is cool.

Evidence the plan has worked: I'm no longer uncomfortable when Sirius and Kreatcher interact.

Privilege: Purchase a muggle walk-men and CDs.

Snape had got on him for not sending in an account of his spending and savings over the previous three weeks and had him deduct three galleons from the savings amount for the lack of reports. Harry felt like he was on share time with two dads. One was strict, reliable and a bit vengeful. The other was carefree, deranged and a bit vengeful.

Harry smacked on his gum as he trudge up the stairs and unlocked the door, "Sirius! I'm back!"

"Hey Pup, how was your friend's?" Sirius leaned casually against the door jam to the family room. His heart raced. His arms were crossed and fist tucked safely under his armpits. They wanted to slam on the side table. He wanted to yell at Harry and tell him he wasn't allowed to go to Snape's. But he bit his tongue until he tasted iron. He wanted Harry to trust him. That wouldn't happen if Harry knew he'd been spying. The mirror had been smashed during Sirius' tantrum, so the spying hadn't lasted long.

"It was brilliant! We went swimming at the Y, played Nintendo and went to see True Lies!"

Sirius was baffled by this entire statement except for the word swimming. But Harry's tone spoke of much more fun than he could ever imagine Snape having.

In reality, Harry had only slightly embelished. Snape had dropped him off at the Y stating, "You're not coming near my potions lab until you've worked off some energy." Then they'd gone to the movie True Lies, "...for research. It is important to be aware of others' techniques." Finally, they'ed rented a game system and some games, "...to give you a taste of a privilege that can be earned when you achieve a goal." Harry became skeptical of this reasoning when Snape expertly hooked up the system then plopped on to the couch beside him, and proceeded to trounce Harry on three separate games. They'd also done some clothes shopping, "...because I'm not shopping for you again and the Mutt won't think of it."

"You might have to explain some of that to me. I've been out of the loop for a dozen years or so. Why don't you put your stuff away, then we can have some tea. Kreacher?"

Kreacher popped in, "Master called?"

"Tea in the parlor."

"Yes, Master. Nasty blood trader."

"Why you little!" Kreacher vanished just as Sirius looked ready to lunge. "Worthless little shit. Ought to drown him."

Harry was torn. This was a great opportunity to spike Sirius' tea, but being around Sirius when he was like this hurt. Harry reminded himself that he'd been around this kind of viciousness most of his life. Surely he could endure it now for the sake of his plan. Harry took his things to his room then came down for tea.

* * *

"Sirius?" Harry snapped a bite of biscuit and chewed while he talked, "Why don't you date?"

"What?"

"I was wondering why you hadn't been on a date."

"You want me to date?"

Harry shrugged. "I just thought it was odd that you hadn't. Stuck in prison for 12 years, it just seems like something you'd miss."

"Have you dated?" Sirius quried.

"Not yet."

"So you've had a dry spell for nigh on 14 years. Mines being just shy of two months, being as I don't count listening to the rants of my deranged cousin Bella as a date. Perhaps it's time for both of us."

Harry blushed, "Sirius!"

"I am Sirius. I mean serious. What's your game plan?"

Harry jiggled his foot and twisted his other ankle about the table leg. "I don't know. Toss a wad of paper at their head to get their attention, then ask them out."

Sirius looked flabbergasted, then struggled to hold in a laugh.

Harry defensively proclaimed, "Well it works for Fred. It's how he gets girls to go to Hogsmeade with him."

Sirius got ahold of his laughter and reassured Harry, "It brought back a memory. James trying to get girls to notice him by lobbing paper airplanes at their head. Ended up with more glares than dates. I'm sure we can come up with something a bit more... mature."

Harry picked up Sirius' tea cup and sniffed.

"Why are you sniffing my tea?"

"Checking for polyjuice."

"Polyjuice? How would you know its smell?"

"Useful stuff."

"You've used it?"

Harry smiled, but didn't respond.

"You think I'm using it?" Sirius, voice was incredulous.

"You said you knew how to behave maturely. I had to check."

"Hey! I can behave maturely!" Sirius exclaimed.

Harry smirked, "I dare you to prove it."

"I can do it." Sirius insisted. Then mumblled, "It's just not as fun." Sirius squirmed in his seat. Dares were hard to ignore, even boring ones like expecting to be mature, "What'd you have in mind?"

Harry pretended to be considering. "Three weeks."

"Three weeks of what?"

"Mature behavior."

"Isn't that a bit extrem?" Sirius whined.

Harry rolled his eyes.

Sirius transformed into a dog, set his paw on Harry's knee and looked up pleadingly.

"Two weeks?"

The dog whined.

"Ten days."

Snuffles jumped up and enthusiastically licked Harry's check.

Harry laughed and shoved the dog off him. "I'm not sure you can behave for eight minutes, let alone eight days." Dogs are good negotiators.

Sirius transformed back. "I'll manage. What do I get if I succeed?"

Harry grinned, "A paint ball fight."

"A what?"

"It's like a snowball fight, but you lobe balls of paint at each other."

"What if I don't succeed?"

"Then I'll invite Hermione over for a day of reading in the library and you'll have to maturely read with us." Harry didn't mind reading nearly as much as Ron, but wasn't an enthusiast like Hermione.

The compulsion potion sat forgotten in Harry's pocket.

* * *

Day 1

Harry stood in Sirius' bedroom doorway and gapped. One pant leg was half draped over a chair, the other dangled on the floor. Each dresser drawer was open to a different length. One drawer had a black sock, a blue sock, two bunched up shirts, a wadded up pair of slacks and a pair of briefs with pictures of Padfoot wandering about, scratching himself and digging holes. The other drawers had a similar mishmash of clothes and random odds and ends. The floor of the closet had an ever growing mound of dirty robes spilling out of its gapping maw. The bed covers were strewn on the floor. The carpet, if there was one, appeared to have been hiding (probably in shame of the mess) under a coating of magazines open to various pages displaying, primarily, cars, motorcycles and bikini clad women.

Sirius looked sheepish. "I guess it's kind of gotten out of control."

A newspaper began creeping across the floor and Harry was leery to check if there was a critter under it or if it had drunk in magic from the house and was trying to make its escape from the mess.

Sirius shifted from foot to foot. He had never learned how to keep a room organized. Despite Kreacher being nutters the little freak did generally do as told unless he manipulated the meaning of the order. Prior to a few days ago he always just ordered Kreacher to deal with it. After overhearing Harry telling Snape he didn't like Sirius treating Kreacher badly he'd avoided the bastard. He didn't have it in him to be nice to the useless runt. So he managed without the servant. Sirius looked over to his mirror and found that it had turned opaque, with a wavy green message, "On strike due to poor work conditions." Perhaps he hadn't managed. Sirius heard footsteps heading down the stairs, "Where are you going?"

Harry paused and turned, "Do you know household spells to clean that mess up?"

Sirius shook his head. He'd never bothered to learn them. Hadn't seen the point.

"Then I'm going to get Herrmione. The three of us can spend a few hours looking them up. Does the wizarding world have a public library?"

It turns out it did. Harry had to catch Hermione when she lost her breath at seeing its breadth. Then she about had a coronary when the librarian threatened to kick her out when she shouted, "THIS EXIST AND NO ONE AT HOGWARTS TOLD US!"

The sun rose. The sun sank.

Sirius and Harry each grabbed an arm and hauled the bushy haired brunette from her new second home.

* * *

Day 2

Sirius successfully cleaned and organized his room with the recently learned spells. Padfoot jumped on Harry's bed, waking him up. The giant hound grabbed Harry's pajama leg and hauled him to the clean room. Padfoot plopped his butt on the ground and wagged his tail happily. Harry patted Padfoot on the head, "Good dog. Would you like a treat?"

"Woof!" The dog trotted down the stairs to the kitchen.

Harry followed after an ablution stop. Harry prepared French toast and sausages for breakfast.

"Where'd you learn to cook?"

"Cooking shows, cookbooks and Aunt Petunia."

"You like that stuff?"

Harry shrugged. It was something that needed doing and he was in the habit of taking care of needs. He thought he might enjoy it without his Aunt nagging him.

"It's decided. My mature act for the day is to make lunch and dinner."

Harry's stomach tremored in fear.

Sirius insisted on taking sole responsibility for lunch.

Burnt. Harry smelled something..burnt.

Smoke. Smoke singed his eyes.

"Lunch!" Harry heard a cheerful call.

Char. Harry saw charred greenbeans, charred potatoes, charred...was that beef?

Sirius looked so proud and happy that Harry couldn't help but at least try the, well, he couldn't call it food. He gave it a taste.

Charcoal. Sirius had made charcoal for lunch.

"Um, Sirius?"

"Yes, Harry?" Sirius looked lovingly at his bite of steak then attempted to place it on his tongue. It flew out of his mouth and smacked into a wall while Sirius gulped down a quart of water.

"Perhaps we could order take-away from McTacozzia."

The food vanished from the table as Sirius made a beeline for his robe.

As they walked away from the take-away bus, making hums of appreciation as they bit into a slice of pepperoni and ham with double cheese, Harry said, "I need to find a payphone so we can see if we need to pick Hermione up or if she is already at the library."

Sirius' pulse picked up and he squeaked, "Library?"

"Well, it's either learn to cook from books or ask Kreacher to make dinner."

Sirius froze. His brain couldn't process how to decide between those two options. He'd been in near tears with frustration at having to be quiet, and still for such a long time the day before. But he HATED the bat eared runt.

Harry waited. The decision needed to be Sirius'.

Sirius unfroze after another minute. He nodded, "Library."

The quickly covered disappointment upon Harry's continence jarred Sirius' heart.

Sirius was less anxious and more subdued through his second library confinment.

* * *

Day 3

"Kreacher, clean the bathrooms," The words burned like bile in Sirius throat.

"Yes, nasty blood traitor, master."

"Why you..." Sirius reached to wring the skinny neck but it had vanished along with it's owner.

Then Sirius caught sight of Harry. It creeped him out. Harry appeared to be staring without seeing. Then he silently left the room. Sirius found him in the Black Family Library. "Up for a game of chess?"

"Studying."

Sirius ran a hand through his hair. He contemplated leaving the room, but it felt wrong. He snagged a book at random and stretched out on the settee. Sirius became the one seeing without seeing. The words on the page went into his eyes but his brain processed his thoughts instead. Elves were servants. Elves were punished. That was normal. That was how things belonged. Harry didn't see it that way. He was hurting Harry by trying to hurt the elf. He didn't give dragon dung about the elf, but he loved Harry. He hated hurting Harry.

"Kreacher."

"Master called."

What he planed to say sounding so foreign that he had to play the words in his head a few times just to be sure they weren't in Goobedlygook. "Kreacher, please bring us a tray of Earl Grey and butterscotch biscuits."

Kreacher smirked then vanished. A few minutes later he returned with a tray coated in a translucent brown liquid with slightly soggy butterscotch biscuits sitting in the tea. No pot or cups were provided.

Sirius was about to blow his top when he caught Harry trying to hold back a smile from his lips. Then Harry gave it up and laughed, "Thank you Kreacher. You followed directions perfectly."

"You're welcome, nasty blood-traitor sir." Then Kreacher popped away.

Harry smilled, "Kreacher pranked you."

* * *

Day 4

The day had gone rather well. Kreacher had again used his own interpretation of orders, but Sirius was getting better at not letting it get under his skin. By the fifth time he actually started to look forward to the contest. It was a challenge. He thrived on challenge. It seemed Kreacher did too.

"Kreacher, Please get the stain out of this shirt."

"Of course, Master." Kreacher snapped his fingers and a hole appeared where the stain had been.

"Kreacher, please get rid of the trash."

"Gladly, Sir." Kreacher levitated Harry and directed his human balloon toward the door.

Sirius barley restrained his arm from swinging out at the little monster. Then Harry giggled.

"Kreacher, safely put Harry down."

Kreacher didn't react for a moment as he appeared in thought. Then with a snap, the sofa transfigured into a hot tub and filled with water. Kreacher levitated Harry to just above the water then released the charm. Splash!

Harry emerged from the water with a grin and sopping clothes. "Join me, Sirius."

Sirius climbed in, shirt, shoes, jeans and all.

* * *

Day 5

Early Evening

Harry and Sirius were playing a companionable game of Clue. Sirius acted as though he was stretching. When his arm came back toward the table a paper appeared.

"What's this?"

"It's my mature act for the day."

Harry unfolded the paper and read.

_Rules for Harry_

_1\. Harry will get ready for bed at 9:30 and will be under the covers by ten._

"You're serious? A bed time?"

"I'm Sirius 100% of the time, day or night."

_2\. Harry will not go beyond second base on his dates._

"Sirius!" Harry blushed and whined.

_3\. Harry will not break the weekend curfew of 11:00PM._

_4\. Harry will let me know when he is leaving the house and when he'll be back._

_5\. Sirius has the right to add more whenever he needs to._

Harry sulked. Rules were not something he had anticipated from Sirius. But perhaps Sirius did't posses the maturity to actually enforce them.

* * *

Day 6

Harry walked into the house smelling of fried foods.

"Where have you been?" Sirius sounded mildly peerturbed.

"Went out for breakfast. I brought you back some."

Sirius grunted in response, took the bag Harry handed to him, sniffed and smiled. Sirius liked take away.

* * *

_A few hours later..._

Harry popped through the floo and brushed the soot off his jeans.

"Floo hopping?" Sirius sounded annoyed.

Harry smiled. "Just over to Ron's. We played a pickup game of Quidditch. Mrs. Weasley baked us an apple pie for pudding."

Sirius took the proffered pie. He sniffed. He smilled. Apple pie is good.

* * *

_Late that evening... _

Harry was practicing his katas in a spare room.

Sirius walked in then morphed into Padfoot. Padfoot tilted his head in curiousity. "Arf?"

"I'm practicing Judo moves. It's a type of fighting where you throw people and break limbs instead of punching them. I don't exactly have the body frame to put much power behind a punch."

Sirius reappeared. "I thought you'd gone to bed."

"Too much energy. I bet you can't do more pushups than me."

"What's a pushup?"

Harry rolled his eyes and mumbled something about purebloods, then got down on the ground and demonstrated.

Sirius took the bet. Challenges were fun. Twenty pushups later he'd changed his mind.

* * *

Day 7

A blast of water hit Harry in the face and he spluttered awake. A pair of sweats and a t-shirt flew through the air and landed on his head. "Time to work out," Sirius called.

Sirius and Harry entered the makeshift gym Harry had talked Sirius into setting up. "First thing's first, a twenty minute run." Sirius magicked some changing scenery and a moving path that changed texture and height to match the scenery.

Harry started running. "Aren't you joining me."

"Every athlete needs a coach. Consider me yours." Sirius smirked and leaned against the wall.

For the next two hours Sirius gave directions...

"30 minutes of swimming..."

"50 pushups..."

Harry occasionally saw Sirius discretely glance at a muggle exercise book.

"20 situps..."

"48 mountain climbers..."

The list went on.

Harry kept trying to convince Sirius to join in. Sirius continually retorted the importance of a coach's job.

Sirius needed out of that room. He'd been trying to wear Harry out, but Harry seemed to possess boundless energy. "Work on your fighting stuff. Then shower and come down for breakfast. It should be ready in an hour."

Sirius pointed his wand at Harry and a blue light hit Harry's chest.

Harry's brow furrowed. "What was that?"

"Just a monitoring spell since I won't be in here to coach."

"It's just katas. I'm not going to get hurt." But Sirius didn't hear. He'd already left.

Harry's stomach was already grumbling about the extensive workout without breakfast, but it and he had experience at ignoring such needs so he began progressing through his katas.

* * *

Harry smelled pancakes, syrup, sausage and hashbrowns. Salivating, he entered the kitchen. There were two place settings. One with the fore-mentioned flavor fest, the other with Wheat O's. Sirius was chowing down on the take away from a local food chain. The plain, boring cereal awaited Harry.

"Athletes need to eat healthy food," explained Sirius.

Harry had suffered through many meals where he'd been given something crummy like an uncooked cheese sandwich while his "famlily" ate roast beef with all the sides. He didn't like it, but he didn't complain.

* * *

Harry headed to the floo. The powder wasn't there.

"Padfoot spilled it this morning."

"You're Padfoot."

"Yep."

Harry tried to go out the front door. It felt like a rubber band dragged him back in.

"Monitoring spell," stated Sirius, "It has a limited range. You're stuck near me until it wears off."

"Can't you just cancel the spell?"

"Can't remember the counter to it."

"Sirius!" Harry whined.

"You're stuck, kid."

"How about a game?" asked Harry.

"Sorry, can't today. A lot of paper work has accumulated since my parents died."

"When did they die?"

Sirius looked puzzled, "Umm, sometime between one and 13 years ago? I was in Azkaban when they passed. If I'm being all mature with getting paperwork done you might as well be too. Grab your books. Get some of your summer homework out of the way."

Harry groaned. Summer and homework were two words that should never mix. Harry scratched out his transfiguration and charms essays while Sirius did adult homework.

* * *

7PM

"Time for another workout session."

"I worked out this morning," responded Harry.

"And now its time again. Weight lifting seems like a good way to start." Sirius headed toward the gym with Harry in tow. Sirius put him through his paces again, for an hour and a half this time, then ordered him to shower and head to bed.

"It isn't even 9, Sirius."

"Athletes need rest. It helps the brain and the body."

Harry was tired and it wasn't like any of his friends would know he'd gone to bed at such a babyish time, unlike Snape sending him to bed in front of his whole House. Harry slept.

* * *

Day 8

Harry awoke and felt around on the side table for his glasses. His hand brushed upon a note.

_Write the rules ten times each, then you'll be off restriction._

Harry took the note downstairs and located Sirius. "Restriction?"

"You didn't really believe I'd forgotten the canceling spell or had a deep desire to do paper work for eight hours, did you?"

"Sirius!"

"Always and forever. Break the rules again and it'll be two days. Of course, it could be two days anyway depending on how slow of a writer you are. Breakfast, then lines."

* * *

_That afternoon..._

"Harry!"

Harry thunder down the steps and into the kitchen.

"Ah. There you are. Have a seat."

Harry glanced over the table. Strawberries, oranges, grapefruit, bananas, kiwi and donuts.

Harry was grateful Sirius hadn't tried cooking again but they'd just finish eating lunch not half an hour earlier. "Sirius?"

"My mature act for today. It is time you learned the do's and don't's of dating."

Harry was slightly game when they started, but in short turn his blush was as deep a red as the strawberries Sirius was demonstrating how and when to kiss with. When the embarrassed teen tried to make a run for it he discovered that Sirius had anticipated the move. Harry's jeans were magically "glued" to the chair and the chair to the floor. He had no choice but to endure "the birds and the bees" lecture described with food. Food that Harry would be avoiding for quite sometime.

* * *

_The reward..._

"Are you sure we should do this in the house?" queried Harry.

Sirius mumbled something that sounded like, "Muggle raised." Then he held up his wand. "Magic cleans up nearly all messes."

"Well, if you're sure."

* * *

Harry ducked behind the sofa. The top edge of the sofa and the fringe of Harry's hair got splattered in hot pink. Harry aimed at Sirius' trousers with yellow paint. A blue ball whizzed by and splatted against a wall. Red paint dripped from the curtains. Harry and Sirius had a blast as they bombarded each other, and every other object in the room, with blobs of paint. They played until every inch of themselves and the room was coated and not a paintball was left. When they finally gained control of their bubbling laughter and decided it was time to cleanup Sirius' wand did not provide the desired effect. He was able to get all the wet paint off he and Harry and was able to exchange their rainbow outfits for clean clothes with a flick, but their skin and hair seemed determined of hold on to the color of the paint. Sirius tried to remove the paint from the couch. The wet paint lifted, but the dried on stuff remained. He decided not to try his spell work on anything else.

"Kreacher, if you are able, please put the room back to rights." Sirius had gotten rather good at being polite to Kreacher over the past week.

* * *

_A few minutes later... _

Sirius looked around the room in awe while exclaiming, "Wow, Kreacher. I can't believe you got the paint off the walls and furniture. This room looks great! I didn't think we'd ever be able to use it again. Thank you for cleaning."

Kreacher then did something completely unexpected. He picked up a blood red, glass lamp and smashed it into the ground. He seethed and snatched up a pillow and tore it in two then ripped the cotton from within and made cobweb like wisp from it as he vented, "Kreacher not good! Room not great!" A decanter of brandy was upended on the carpet. Then with a flash of magic the green paint re-appeared, dripping down the walls. "Walls not clean!" Kreacher continued to rant as he left the destroyed room.

Harry was at a loss. Sirius was finally making an effort to treat Kreacher fairly, but Kreacher was having none of it. He'd just thrown a fit, screaming that he was worthless and that he didn't deserve how they were trying to treat him. Then the cupboard door slammed and Kreacher refused to come out. Harry collapsed into a chair near the cupboard and thought. He would have been thrilled if the Dursely's had started being nice to him. A thank you or a request instead of a demand would have meant the world to him. _"Thank you, Harry. That was a lovely meal."_ Harry imagined the words being spoken by Aunt Petunia. Rather than heart warming a creepy chill shuddered through Harry. The Dursely's weren't capable of sincere niceness. Such a comment would have only been made to impress a guest and would likely hold something malicious behind it.

Also, there had been moments over the last few years where he'd had to smother his own anger and hide behind the facade of a smile. There was no way his friends would understand that he wasn't worthy of a shoulder to lean on. That he'd been terrified by their unfamiliar, friendly concern. Part of him had wanted to lash out, to yell and scream and shove letting them know that he was a worthless freak that didn't deserve friendship. It had taken a long time for the facade to turn into sincere appreciation and acceptance.

Kreacher, it would seem, didn't have Harry's self control. Harry knocked on Kreacher's door.

"Kreacher?"

"You's is not Kreachers Master. Go away."

"Kreacher, why do you feel unworthy of kindness?"

Harry heard a small whisper, "Kreacher failed."

"I fail too sometimes."

"Nasty Harry Potter fails?"

"Of course. Everyone fails."

"Houselves don't fail their master. Houseelves be punished when they fail. Kreacher had no master."

"So you're feeling guilty?"

"Kreacher failed," Kreacher repeated.

"Right. Kreacher, come out of that cupboard," stated Harry firmly.

Two bulbous eyes peered out of the door that had eased open a mere inch.

Harry pointed his finger at an empty corner, "You'll serve your punishment now. 27 minutes with your nose in the corner. No moving. Then we will discuss how you failed and how to fix it."

Kreacher gave Harry the kind of look Malfoy gave Grubblyplank when she told them they'd be collecting boubortuber puss.

"Now Kreacher. Nose in the corner." Harry had been fed with Dudley sized servings of guilt more often than he'd been fed actual food. Real punishments were sometimes easier to accept than unforgiven guilt. Time served, the guilt was allowed to vanish. No punishment and the guilt would eat at you. It was part of the reason he struggled to understand Sirius. Sirus seriously needed to release some guilt.

Kreacher obeyed, shooting Harry odd looks as he dragged his feet to the corner. He couldn't help but ask, "This is punishment."

"Trust me. Boredom and the shame of corner time is punishment."

"I'll have to remember that," thought Sirius who'd been listening in from the other side of the door.

Harry made tea. Kreacher itched to be doing the chore himself. Then Harry sat in silence sipping the tea, driving Kreacher nuts with the lack of sound or movement.

The 27 minutes ended. "Kreacher, come to the table." Kreacher shuffled over. "How did you fail?"

"Master Regulus told Kreacher to destroy the Dark Lord's locket. Kreacher tried. Kreacher tried fire. Kreacher tried hammer. Kreacher tried magic. Kreacher try melting locket in potion." Kreacher had tears running down his weathered checks, "Kreacher failed Master Regulus' last order. Master died for locket and Kreacher couldn't destroy it."

"What locket Kreacher?"

"Kreacher fetch." Kreacher vanished and moments later reappeared holding a locket with the letter S on the front.

Harry touched a finger to it and his scar gave a twinge of pain. Harry recalled Quirelle sizzling under his palm in first year. Quirelle had been possessed. Could objects be possessed? Harry clutched the locket. Another twinge. Kreacher bellowed, "Mine!" and snatched the locket back. In the moment of the yell the locket flared. Kreacher was cradling the locket almost cooing to it like a mother to a child.

Harry had an idea. A painful twinge in his scar had been a regular occurrence when around Quirelle, but it was when they were both highly emotional that it burned. Harry laid his palm on the top of the locket, but left it in Kreacher's arms. He needed to agitate Kreacher, to make him emotional, but anger wasn't something he wished to bring out in anyone. What made Kreacher emotional, but not angry? "Kreacher, tell me about Regulus."

Kreacher's eyes widend. Someone wanted to hear about his beloved family? "Regulus was a good boy. Always did as he was told."

"Always?" Harry frowned. "What did I say earlier?"

Kreacher faltered, "Ev,,,everyone fails."

"What was one of Master Regulus failures?"

Kreacher shook a fist at Harry. "Elves no speak bad of masters." The locket flared.

"When he was bad did his mom forgive him?"

"Walburga good lady. She praise young master."

Harry shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. Walburga sounded like Petunia, praising her son's wrong doing. "Did you forgive Regulus when he did wrong to you?"

Kreacher just looked at Harry puzzled.

Harry rolled his eyes, "What about the other way around, did he forgive you?"

"Master died. Master not here to forgives Kreacher. Kreacher failed."

"Well, I forgive you."

The locket warmed for a brief flash.

"But you is nasty halfblood."

"That's how my Aunt and Uncle feel too."

"They's is angry you's not full wizard?"

Harry nodded, though the truth was the exact opposite. "They are bad people and are horrible at forgiveness. But I bet Regulus wasn't like them. Regulus was a good man and had the strength of character to forgive. You've served your punishment Kreacher. Regulus wouldn't be like my horrid family. Regulus would forgive you."

"Kreacher forgiven?"

"Kreacher forgiven," Harry confirmed.

"But Kreacher failed."

"Kreacher, are you more powerful than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

Kreacher cowered, "Kreacher never claim to be more powerful than wizard."

Harry thought otherwise since elves performed controlled magic without wands, but contradicting the downtrodden creature wouldn't help his cause. "The Dark Lord made this Kreacher." Harry indicated the locket. "You weren't meant to defeat it on your own. But together we can."

"Can?" Kreacher tilted his head. "How?"

"Magic. If I explain it the magic might not work. It won't be an instant fix. But if you trust me and trust that I'm working on the issue then I believe we can achieve Regulus' final instructions." Harry turned to the doorway, where his Godfather leaned on the frame, "Sirius will help. You'll honor your brother's last task, won't you?"

Sirius had practiced restraint and acceptance more in the past week than he had, well, ever. With a little magical help. Currently his feet were stuck to the ground. Literally. He'd cast a spell to glue his boots to the floor and another to keep himself from talking. Magic was the only thing that could have kept him from snatching the locket away or from shouting at them about the danger they were playing with. With as much discretion as possible, Sirius silently cancelled the spell that had prevented him from interupting. "I will." Sirius smirked, "It seems my brother grew a brain and b..ah. ahem. Well, he was making courageous and good choices near the end." Sirius cancelled the spell on his boots then came over and laid his hand over Harry's and the locket held by Kreacher. "I forgive him." The locket seared and screeched and Kreacher dropped it.

Harry reached down and scooped it up. It was ice cold. "Kreacher, I need you to wear this locket." Harry lifted it over Kreacher's head and rested it on Kreacher's shoulders. "Then," thought Harry, "I need to make you emotional again."

Over the next few days many changes were wrought in the household.

"Sirius, do the Black's have a signet staff uniform."

"No. Why?"

"I think Kreacher should have a uniform."

"If you give an elf clothes they are free. As deranged as the little bugger is, he isn't so off that he'd want freedom."

Harry had always wanted freedom from the Dursley's but had also desperately wanted to be accepted by them, so he sort of understood. "Dobby wanted freedom."

"Who?" asked Sirius.

Harry shrugged, "Doesn't matter. If we can't give him a uniform could you have one designed and then order Kreacher to make it and wear it."

"He seems content in the rags."

Harry had never been content in the rags, but he daren't complain to his 'family'. "Please, Sirius."

"Why is this so important to you?"

Harry shrugged and looked away. The sad expression had returned. Sirius wanted to make it go away.

* * *

_The next day... _

"Kreacher, you will take these design and sew three new servant uniforms for yourself. Once they are done you will wear them and throw away the rag you are currently wearing."

"Kreacher doesn't deserve nice uniform." The elf stubbornly crossed his arms and stayed put.

Harry knelt by the small being and laid his hand on the necklace. "Kreacher is a good elf." The locket thumped. "You have always done your best to help members of the Black family." Kreacher's eyes were growing big with Harry's words. Sirius tried to disguise a scoff as a cough when Harry glared at him. "Kreacher shows pride in his family when he dresses well in the staff uniform." The locket sent searing pain into Harry's forehead, but he did not remove his hand until Kreacher nodded and vanished.

* * *

_A few days later..._

A spiffy Kreacher made and served lunch. "Kreacher?"

Kreacher looked at Harry.

"What do you eat?"

"Kreacher eats cake, biscuits, pie, donuts..."

Harry blushed at the word donuts. Kreacher continued to rattle off sweet junk food. The list was not what Harry had expected to hear. Kreacher was a sweets addict?

"Kreacher needs healthier food," Harry stated.

Kreacher glared, "Kreacher eats good food."

"Kreacher, your body needs vitamins and nutrients. You need fruit, vegetables, meat, nuts."

Kreacher threw his dish towel on the floor. "Kreacher no need varmints." His foot stomped, "Kreacher no need nutmen. Kreacher eats good."

Harry also hadn't figured on Kreacher being so stubborn.

Sirius leaned his head in the room. "Kreacher, you will eat what we eat with us." He almost choked on the sentence, but Sirius was getting better at predicting Harry's goals and had come to the realization that Harry would pursue them until they were achieved.

A cheerful Harry, a disgruntled Kreacher and an uncomfortable Sirius sat down to a meal of rice, beans and chicken with apple pie for dessert. Getting Kreacher to sit in a chair at the table had been more challenging then escaping from one of Argog's webs. Harry, as had become his habit, laid his hand over the necklace on the struggling waif's chest and spoke calm, reassuring words in the speech pattern of elves. "Kreacher is a good elf. Kreacher deserves to eat healthy food with his family."

"Kreacher does not!"

"Kreacher does." Harry insisted. Then Harry changed tactics, "Perhaps you are correct. Kreacher isn't good." Kreacher looked ready to cry at those words, "Kreacher can't serve his master well if Kreacher is not healthy. Beings that sit at tables eat healthier food. Beings that eat healthy food have the muscles, strong bones, magical power and brains to be helpful. Kreacher doesn't want to eat healthy food at a table so Kreacher must not want to be a good elf for his family." As Harry spoke the locket burned under his hand and seared his scar. He swore he could hear screaming in his head.

Kreacher squinted his bulbous eyes. "Kreacher good elf." Kreacher plopped down in the chair and began spooning up food.

After dessert Harry and Sirius went into the family room for a game of chess. Sirius kept shooting odd glances at Harry.

"What?"

"Nothing." Sirius looked back down at the chess board.

The glances continued.

"What!?"

Sirius lifted Harry's goblet and sniffed.

"Sirius?"

"Just checking for polyjuice."

"Polyjuice?" asked Harry.

Then Sirius pointed his wand at himself and mumbled a spell.

"Sirius, what's going on? What was that spell for?"

"Checking for memory modifications."

"Your memory was modified?" Harry sounded worried.

Sirius looked puzzled, "It must have been. I could have sworn you were in Gryffindor."

"I am in Gryffindor."

"Huh."

"What?" Harry ground his teeth a little as he was getting exasperated.

"You're better at being a sneaky snake than half my family tree."

Harry tensed, "Does that bother you?"

Sirius snorted, "It bothers me that I didn't have you about during my pranking days. Would have saved me a lot of detentions."

Harry smiled even as his forehead flamed briefly while Sirius accepted Harry's Slytherin side. The locket simultaneously sent searing heat through Kreacher's chest as he carted in a tray of cocoa and chocolate biscuits.

* * *

_The next day... _

"Sirius?"

"Harry?"

"There's a bedroom on the third floor. Who's was it?"

"Narcissa and Belatrix shared it when they visited," Harry could tell by Sirius' distasteful tone that he had not enjoyed their visits.

"Would it be okay if I let someone use it?"

"Sure."

"Thanks, Sirius."

* * *

"Uh, Sirius? Can you conjure a ladder for me?"

Sirius did so, barley glancing up. He'd checked out 13 years of back copies of Fashion Witch Swimsuit Editions from the library and Sirius was deeply engrossed.

Harry used the ladder to climb up and remove the elf heads from the wall. He took a forty-five minute shower after moving them to their new location."

* * *

"Sirius?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I brew?"

"Hmhm." Sirius never looked up from his magazine.

Harry brewed a shrinking potion. Then he put dollops of it on various items in the third floor bedroom.

* * *

_A Little While Later..._

Knock, knock knock. Harry rapped on Kreacher's cupboard door. Kreacher peeked out. "Kreacher, I know how important family is to you." Kreacher stared. "It is important to honor family." Kreacher was silent. "Would you prefer to have a funeral for your ancestors or have them adorn your wall?"

Kreacher glanced about his small space. "Kreacher can shrink them," thought Kreacher. He spoke, "Kreacher's wall."

"Great! I thought you'd choose that! Here is a ritual candle." Harry handed a reluctant Kreacher a fat, red candle. Harry carried a blue one. "We need to light these candles to carry their souls to their new locations." Harry walked out of the room.

Kreacher was completely bewildered by this odd boy. "Should Kreacher follow the insane one?" pondered Kreacher. Kreacher hesitantly climbed out of his cupboard. Kreacher zapped himself to Insane Half Blood's location. Kreacher was startled to find himself in the third floor bedroom rather than the hall. Kreacher gasped upon seeing his ancestors adorning one wall. Harry was chanting something as he held his candle up. Kreacher was confused, but he knew better than to interrupt a chant. Harry switched to holding the candle in one hand as he laid the other along the chain on the back of Kreacher's neck. The words repeated and Kreacher, caught up in the moment, began speaking them.

The necklace throbbed as Kreacher ritually honored his ancestors for the first time. The locket shattered as a fraction of Voldemort's soul rushed from it's confines. "HOW DARE YOU IMBIBE ME with the...thes...these EMOTIONS. You'll rue the day you made me feel." Voldemort glided through an exterior wall and disappeared from view.

Thump.

THUMP.

Harry's eyes gleamed with success. Then the thumps registered in his brain. He looked down. Kreacher was passed out on the floor. He looked around. Sirius was passed out by the door.

With a bit of cheek tapping, begging and a splash of water the two beings awoke.

"Harry was that You-Know-Who?"

"No." Harry intentionally left off, "Who?" He'd just finished training his Godfather. He didn't need the man running off and doing something stupid and get arrested again.

"Kreacher's locket is broke!" came a screechy voice from behind the two. "Kreacher succeeded!"

"That was You-Know-Who, wasn't it?" Sirius looked down into emerald eyes.

"It was a ghost."

"Yeah, of You-Know-Who."

"Actually, I'm not sure who you are talking about."

"Harry!" Sirius was exasperated. "New rule: Harry must confess all if Sirius is truly frustrated with him. Confess."

Harry shuffled his feet and looked about shiftily as he tried to decide what to say.

"Fine. You can stand in the corner until you're ready to explain the truth."

Harry's mouth dropped open in shock, his cheeks burned red and words tumbled out. "I killed my first year defense teacher."

"WHAT!?" That wasn't even remotely close to what Sirius expected to hear.

"He was possessed by Voldemort."

Sirius flinched.

Harry continued, "When I was near him I'd often get searing pain in my scar. It was worse when he was angry or I was scared, like in the Forbidden Forest. I got the same feeling when I touched the necklace."

"You went into the Forbidden Forest in first year!"

"Detention for rescuing a dragon at midnight."

"I need to sit down." Sirius stumbled over to where he knew there to be a chair. The chair was tiny. "What happened to the furniture?"

"This is Kreacher's room now. The furniture is his size," Harry explained.

"Kreacher's room?"

"Kreacher's room?" came a second voice.

"Kreacher's room," confirmed Harry. Harry looked to Sirius, "You said I can let someone stay in it."

"I did?"

Harry nodded.

"Alright. I'm more concerned with the Forbidden Forest, dragons and battles with Voldemort than a room at the moment. Kreacher can have it. You sleep in here from now on, Kreacher."

Kreacher normally would have argued that elves had cupboard, not bedroom, but he was still giddy about succeeding at Regulus' final instruction, so he started humming and cleaning instead.

Harry about burst! He'd achieved all that he was trying for!

Harry and Sirius went to another room and found comfy places to sit. Harry described the events of his first year at Hogwarts. "...then he put his hands on my neck and tried choking me, but his hands burned so he jumped away. Voldemort was telling him to kill me, but he was whining about his hands..."

"Wait, who was whining?"

"Quirrell. So I leapt on him and squeezed his face with my hands. His skin sort of sizzled off and the muscle smelled like a burnt steak and it felt like someone was slamming a glowing red ice pick through my scar and into my brain. I passed out. Woke up in the hospital wing a few days later. I'm getting better at dealing with the pain." Harry stated pridefully.

"Pain?" Sirius' brain finally proceed, "Are you telling me you experienced that today when the locket broke?!"

"Well, yeah. It's what happens when I get Voldemort rilled up."

"You're going to bed. Now."

"Sirius, it's 3:17. In the afternoon."

"You're going to bed. You will sleep."

Harry wasn't sure how to respond to this. The only times he could remember taking naps was when he'd been bored out of his mind in his cupboard.

"Kreacher, get pain reliever and melatonin potions take Harry to his room and make sure he drinks the potions." Then Sirius whispered, "Then bring me the Fire Whiskey."

"Yes, Master Sir."

"Hey! I can walk!" Harry's statement was concluded in his room where Kreacher had apparated them.

* * *

_An hour later..._

Remus flooed into Grimauld place. He saw Sirius with his head down on the table and a half drunk bottle of whisky at his elbow.

"Remus, can I go back to Azkaban?"

Remus faltered at the comment, "Sirius?"

"I was less scared there."

"Scared? What's happened?"

"I think I'm raising a Slytherin James Bond."

"Excuse me?"

"Sneaky, superhero that gets into an absurd amount of dangerous situations, takes down the villain and gets the cute brunnett. Why couldn't he just pull, pranks, like us?"

"I don't know." Remus sat down and commiserated with a shot of whiskey of his own.

* * *

"This is the best chicken and dumplings I've ever eaten," Sirius moaned as he scooped up another hardy bite.

"Master is pleased?" queried Kreacher.

"Master is pleased. Thank you Kreacher."

"Master is most welcome."

Kreacher hummed happily as he snapped his fingers at pots, pans, the sink and the soap causing everything to scrub, rinse and float back to its cupboard.

All was calm in Grimauld Place.

"Sirius?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you like to go to the muggle music store with me tomorrow? I'd like to purchase a CD player and some CDs."

* * *

_The next night..._

Harry listened to Metallica, Ride the Lightning as he pulled out his PPGF (Plot Plan Goal Folder) and wrote, "Done," next to Get Sirius to stop treating Kreacher the way the Dursley's treated me.

Harry read through the description of the plan.

_Sirius needs to have a reason to change. Women are a good reason for blokes to change. Teach Sirius how to properly treat Kreacher by telling him it is what a women would want. Hopefully Ron will change because Sirius changes. I think he is just mimicing Sirius because Sirius is cool._

He hadn't needed to use every piece of the plan. Harry wrote:

_Reminder: Flow with the current. Don't force a boat into white waters just because that is what you wrote on your map._

* * *

Reviews are welcome. :)

Author's Note: I know I didn't have the diary hurt Harry's scar.

1\. I didn't think of using this plot until now.

2\. Let's say Voldemort was younger and less powerful when he made the diary so it had less of an effect on Harry's scar.

Another Author's Note: Like with Quirrell, Harry caused the soul piece to exit the being or object holding the soul; he did not destroy the soul, hence no need for basilisk venom, Fiend Fire... Also, in HPSS (HPPS) the pain seemed to go both ways between Harry and Quirrell; so I'm going with the idea that the same is true with emotions and a horcrux. If it can transfer it's strong emotions to you, you should be able to transfer your strong emotions to it.


	6. Spoiled Birthday

For LillyEvansDouble who always writes great reviews and felt that something was missing.

* * *

Harry watched the hands on his watch slowly tick their way to midnight. The candle in his hand dripped wax onto his finger. All hands pointed up. "I wish to have a good birthday." _Puff._ The light vanished. Harry set the candle in a glass cup. He lay down and drifted into sleep.

* * *

The three weavers of stories, time and fate are occasionally gifted with beautiful, strong thread that they use to piece together the most wonderful of dreams. But each 31 of July and October they argue over the destiny of one child and whether their quarrel ends in an agreement of ill fate or good the thread is always left frayed.

* * *

Harry heard the scratching of dog paws on his door. Then a muffled bark hit the wooden barrier. "Coming, Padfoot." The dog's nails could be heard clicking with each step as it raced down the hall. It was reminiscent of being woken by his Aunt, but much more pleasant. The dog was anxious for him to awaken, but would be pleased to see him. Harry stretched. He availed himself of the facilities. Then he peeled off the broom and snitch covered pajamas and drew on a blue shirt and a pair of jean shorts.

Today was his 14 birthday and he was going to spend it with his friends at a muggle water park. Harry bounced on the balls of his feet. "When do you think they'll get here, Sirius?"

"Soon."

"But you said that last time."

"Alright then, ask again."

"When do you think they'll get here?"

"A long time from now."

"Sirius!"

"Well, regardless of how long, it is going to feel long to you."

* * *

_A short (or long) while later..._

Whoosh! The twins appeared in the fireplace.

"They're here!" yelled Harry.

The rest of the Weasleys flooed through and everyone gathered in the front parlor.

Fred and George were wearing blue shorts and red and white shirts so Harry mentally designated them as Thing 1 and Thing 2. Ron and Ginny were wearing suitable muggle clothes. Sirius had on orange bell bottoms and a blue and white paisley shirt. The last time he had spent any real time in the muggle world it had been the 1970's. Remus often took jobs in the Muggle world so his outfit was appropriate. But Molly Weasley had squished her plump frame in a swimsuit straight from the 1880's; it was made of the same stuff as modern suits, but it had sleeves, stretched down to the knees and had a fluffy, short skirt. Arthur's suit was the same as Molly's but without the skirt. Hermione was dropped off by her parents, and her attire, well, HER attire let the boys in the room know that she was most definitely a HER. Neville joined them too. He had grown up strictly pure blood and very rarely had reason to see muggles. Harry rescued him from the 1600's wizards' version of summer clothes and swimsuit by lending him modern muggle clothes. Neville was grateful, but begged them not to let his Gran know what he had worn.

The Knight bus was hailed and they all hopped on. Hermione lectured as each of her companions tried to hold in their breakfast. "The Knight Bus began in 1865, though it looked more like a carriage than a bus. It had the magical spells needed to make it move quickly and to cause objects to jump from its path. Originally it was just called The Speedy Carriage. Then one night there had been a potions explosion. One wizard tumbled over and raised his wand in the process. The Speedy Carriage arrived and the driver quickly levitated the injured into the carriage. It took only moments for the carriage to get to St. Mungos. One of the nurses called the driver a brave knight. The man was proud of being a rescuer and changed the name of his company to Knight Carriage."

"Well, it is taking more than moments to get where we're going," grumbled Ron. "Hey, Stan, when will we get there?"

"Hold your horses. You he'rd the lady. Injur'd and ill get off first," Stan replied in his Cockney accent.

They arrived at the water park in due course. The day was grand in Harry's mind. The air was hot, the water was cool and his friends and family were with him. They slid down giant slides, floated down an inter-tube river, and got drenched on the whitewater rafting ride. They zipped up and down on roller coasters.

"My word," Arthur looked at one of the giant coasters, "Muggles have these? And they are at an amusement park!? I thought they were just a torture devise designed by the goblins as a means to torment wizards."

They had lunch at a diner on the park premises and that was followed by ice cream cake and Harry's first time hearing Happy Birthday being sung to him. He didn't think his grin could get any wider, but he was hard pressed to try when told that his present from the Weasely's was a trip to the Quidditch World Cup! He'd opened his other presents that morning: books from Hermione and Remus, a knife from Sirius and a Quiditch Weekly subscription from Neville.

"Let's ride the raft again," said someone, though no one quite remembers who, as the who didn't really matter.

The teenagers all climbed on for a second ride. The adults decided to wander the aquarium while the teens rode. Harry had been absorbed in some joke or another the twins were telling and so didn't notice until the ride jerked to a start that someone else he knew was on the raft.

"What are you doing here?" Dudley's voice sneered.

Harry swung around so fast the heel of his foot slammed into the wall beneath the bench. "What's it to you, Dudders?"

Dudley looked about, "Well, it seems like a mighty fine place for a Harry Hunt."

"Friend of yours?" inquired Hermione.

"You're my only friends. This is Dudley Dursley, my cousin and his friend Piers Polkis."

The faces of Harry's friends turned sour.

Dudley noticed the looks, "What'ch ya lo'king at me like that for. I 'aven't done no'thn to you." Dudley pulled a lighter from Piers' pocket. "Ought to though. Ought to burn the whole lot of you freaks."

Harry's lithe frame wiggled out from behind the bar holding the teens in their seats. He was on Dudley in a second and giving him an overhand punch straight to the left eye. Crack! Dudley's hand flew to his eye and nose. "FUCK!"

Harry, thrilled at the prospect of Dudley being the one trapped failed to notice Dudley's hand fly out to grab his shirt. "Piers, hold four eyes while I deck him." Piers' hand went up to replace Dudley's on the shirt. Then Dudley's fist plowed into Harry's glasses, breaking the frame. The broken shards of frame slammed into Harry's face when the second punch came with enough force to separate Harry from Piers grip and sent Harry stumbling to the floor of the raft.

All the while Harry's friends had been yelling and trying to get loose of the seat guards. All of this was just a buzz in Harry's ears. After a few moments to get his breathing and heart rate back under control he eased up enough to scoot back towards Hermione. He leaned back on her leg and allowed her to pet his head while around him obscenities were screamed. The flood of water from the waterfall at the end of the ride generated cries of frustration rather than the excited joy that had rang out the first time they'd rode. Dudley used the void of yelling to take up with his insults again, "Penniless, orphan Potter, no parents to weep on so he's got to buy himself a cheap whore."

With a jolt the ride stopped and the bars holding the teens in their seats released. Fist flew, bodies were pushed and more swear words than a sailor knows were tossed into the air. Both on their feet, Harry managed to get a Judo move on Dudley and threw his walrus of a cousin into the searing cement, then landed a kick in his cousin's side. Security guards ran in from all sides and what felt like seconds later all the teens were held securely and were escorted to the parkinglot. The fighting would have begun again then, but the two groups of combatants were taken to opposite ends of the lot to wait for security to locate their parents.

Petunia and Vernon were located before the witches and wizards. Petunia crooned over Dudley's wounds. Vernon stomped across the lot like a bull elephant. Harry's heart thrummed in his throat. He shoved his friends behind him, protecting even as he wished to be protected. The security guard guarding their group took notice of the teens' behavior and the approaching man and put himself in between them. Vernon shoved the guard, but the guard held his ground. Vernon was taller than the guard so he reached over the guard's shoulder and leached onto his nephew's shirt then folded his arm to his chest, carrying Harry over the guards shoulder and leaving Harry's feet dangling eight inches from the ground. "You little shit, how dare you hit my Dudders. You aren't worth the scum on the bottom of a pair of muddy shoes. You'll pay for our tickets today or I'll take it out of your hide."

"Release him," demanded the guard as he tried to free Harry.

The teens were back to using foul language and trying to rescue their friend. Someone in the group yelled, "You can't do that!" in response to Vernon's threat.

"I can do anything I bloody well like. I raised the useless freak." Vernon gave Harry a good shake.

Sirius, a former Auror (wizard cop) came out of nowhere and looped his arm around Vernon's neck while ramming his wand into Vernon's side. Sirius whispered in his ear, "Drop him or I blast your insides and make it look like a heart attack." Harry collapsed on the ground, but quickly recovered his feet. The ground was too vulnerable of a location to be.

Vernon was intimidated by the group of wizards so he took his leave. The Dursely's trundled away in their four door sedan.

Now the teens, whose emotions had already been taxed by two fights were glared at, or lectured by parents that were angry about the language used, the fighting and the being tossed out of the park. Sirius slung an arm around Harry's chest and pulled the teen back to him, "You okay?"

Shrug.

"Let's go home," Sirius murmured.

A subdued group rode the Knight bus, dropping Hermione off in Kent and the Weasleys at the Burrow. The adolescent Weaselys shot weary looks at their mother as they trudge up the path to their home. Neville stayed on until Grimauld Place, changed his clothes, then took the floo home. Everyone apologized for the rough end to the day as they departed.

Harry pretended not to hear the hails of Remus and his Godfather. He went to his room, pulled his father's cloak from the chest and covered himself and climbed onto the bed and leaned against the wall. He just wanted to be alone. Why did his birthday's always have to get ruined? Even his eleventh birthday, which had been his best up until today, was marred with the discovery that his parents had been murdered. Harry wrapped his arms about his legs and rested his head on his knees. He tried to replay the good parts of the water park in his head, but the fight with his cousin and being accosted by his Uncle kept invading his thoughts. He squeezed his fist as he imagined squeezing the confrontations out of his mind and popping them like a sharp pin tapped to a balloon.

As the mental balloon exploded and drifted away Harry felt a cold nose on his ankle. Then came the caress of a tentative tongue. Harry nudged his foot to get Padfoot to leave. Padfoot took it as invitation instead and leaned into Harry's leg. Harry gave another half hearted push at the dog. Padfoot pressed in closer. Harry gave into the comfort and wrapped his arm around the dog. The two just sat for a while. Harry let his hand trail over the dog's fur and at times tangled his fingers in the fur. Then he'd release his grip again and begin to stroke. He eventually settled and edged down to lay on his side with the dog snuggled in front of him. The two slept.

Remus looked in on them at one point. The invisibility cloak was half on and half off dog and boy. Remus placed a silencing charm on a camera and snapped a picture.

An hour later the dog awoke and needed to succumb to the demand of his bladder. Padfoot licked Harry's face, whimpered, then ran to the door and scratched at it. Then he ran back to the prone teen and repeated the actions. Harry groaned, "You know, you're an animagus, not a real dog. You could just morph into Sirius and let yourself out."

Padfoot transformed into Sirius, "Spoil sport. Back in a mo'" Sirius returned with dittany and bruise balm. "Let me touch up those scratches and get rid of that shinner."

"I'm okay, Sirius. I can take care of it myself."

"Yeah, but now you don't need to do it for yourself. Let me." It broke Sirius heart the way Harry tensed up as Sirius tended to the wounds. After the display with the Durselys he felt he understood better why Harry was more affectionate with Padfoot but a bit weary of human touch. He'd been raised by monsters. "Remus is preparing a movie for us."

"Movie?"

"Ummhmm. Well, sort of. We're going to watch his memory of a movie using a projection pensive." Sirius explained about pensives and described what he knew of the movie, then coaxed Harry downstairs with the promise of pizza.

Harry, Remus, Sirius and Kreacher settled on couches in the family room and watched the Millennium Falcon jet through space.

* * *

Tidbits from the first of August:

The twins sent Harry a bag of gag treats as a consolation. Ron sent a letter complaining of the extra chores his mum had assigned all of them. Neville and Hermione wrote that they had a lot of fun and thanked him for inviting them. Harry sent replies to each of them then Sirius took Harry out for a new pair of spectacles.


	7. Back to School and a Defense Lesson

Taboo: Despite that this is FanFiction where we each weave a story for the characters in our own way there are some lines that tend not to be crossed. One is the hard and fast rule that the Defense job is cursed and hence will change teachers every year. In this story, Lupin keeps his job, as he has a three year, magically binding contract. He will of course have substitutes during his monthlies. The lack of the curse will not be explained in this chapter, but it will be explained. Tick, tock you'll have to wait until somewhere around chapter 8..uhm...no, that's not right. Chapter 18. That's it. Somewhere around chapter 18.

* * *

Time flew like a humming bird zipping from tulip to tulip.

The World Cup came and went, with Krum catching the snitch, but losing the match. Death Eaters treated muggles as their play things while witches and wizards panicked, forgetting they carried wands and greatly out numbered the enemy. A Dark Mark was thrown into the air by an unseen man and Harry found his wand on the ground. Winky sobbed over the lose of her job.

Not a week later the train trundled its way to Hogsmeade, then the carriages transported them to the castle where Dumbledore announced the Tri-Wizard tournament.

Now, the fourth year Gryffindors sat in Professor Lupin's defense class.

"Part of defense is knowing when you need to defend and with what type of defense. Thoughts?"

"Always defend against Slytherins," muttered Ron.

The wolf's ears heard. By the blushes on many students' cheeks, so did most of the class when Professor Lupin responded, "Always?"

"They're snakes," iterated Ron, as though stating lines from a book as Hermione so often did, "Snakes are dangerous creatures. Therefore Slytherin's are dangerous. Besides, You-Know-Who was in Slytherin, so of course they follow him."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. He often worried that Ron would reject him as a friend if he knew Harry was nearly in Slytherin, should have been there.

"Let us begin today's lesson with a story." Lupin wandered about the room, his fingers laced behind his back. "Once there was a charismatic, handsome man. Many were drawn in by the way he carried himself, by his willingness to be a bended ear and most of all, by the assistance he was willing to give in the name of defense against ones enemies. This man was very self-assured and felt superior to those he took vengeance on, certain to his core that he was in the right. His enemies both feared and despised him. His appearance would cause them to cringe, cower or hide. Some of these enemies sought the assistance of other charismatic men, willing to bend an ear and lend a hand. Men who likewise were self-assured and superior to those they took vengeance on. Conflicts increased with each side feeling fully justified in their actions. Answer this, which group was acting in the right with their defense?"

Hermione raised her hand, "Sir, what were each sides' beliefs? What were they fighting for?"

"This is a scenario that has repeated itself many times in history, Ms. Granger. Everytime, both sides were certain they were in the right. So which group made the right choice?"

"Both," responded Ron, "It's like with chess, you have to keep defending and be willing to attack or you'll never win."

"The difference here, Mr. Weasely, is that for every chess piece removed from the board another replaces it. Ah, Mr. Thomas?"

"Sir, would that mean neither side should have acted in defense?"

"A chessboard with no pieces moving does seem like it would be at peace. But the pieces themselves would grumble and complain, each continuing to be frustrated that there are others out there that don't agree with them. Eventually, the peace will stall and the two sides will again try to convince others to change, then try to force them to change and if that doesn't work, they will try to eliminate the other side as the chess game begins again. So, I ask again, who is right in their defense?"

Harry was called on next, "No one is always right. No one is always wrong. Both sides will have times when they were right to defened, and times when their actions went too far."

"Well said," Lupin nodded. "So, when should you defend, and when does taking action go too far?"

Hermione responded again, "You should defend when you are being attacked and in defense of those that can't protect themselves."

Lupin questioned, "Should you take the fight to them? Yes, Ms. Patil?"

"Sir, you have to fight back. If you don't give them reason to stop, they won't stop."

"And there is our cycle. Each side defending. Each side attacking. Each side positive they are in the right in their actions. So how do you stop the fighting?"

"Checkmate," stated Ron. "You either have to take out the king, or corner him, giving him reason to stop leading the charge."

"Which brings us back to our charismatic leader. How do you get him to stop? Mr. Finnigan?"

"You said he was willing to bend an ear. Bend it in your direction."

"He is willing to have his ear bent, Mr. Finnigan, not twisted. He still holds his own views, different from your own. Mr. Potter?"

"Since your opponent isn't always wrong, find out what they are right about. Side track them with that. Start campaigning for the things they are right about. Then you checkmate him by making him publicly agree with your side. At that point, if he decides to stop promoting the things he had been right about he'll lose followers. He'll have fewer people defending his side and you'll have an easier time taking him out."

Lupin raised a brow, "Sirius is right," he thought, "Harry would have done well in Slytherin."

"That is a creative, and potentially effective solution," Lupin approved. "Mr. Weasley, as to your comment at the start of class, when I was a student here I was part of a group that felt much the same. We had the handsome charismatic leader," Lupin glanced at Harry as he thought of James and Sirius, "We took the fight to them," he looked at Ms. Patil. "But the targets we choose tended to be the outcast, that either hadn't picked a side or had dared to step on what we considered our territory." 'Sorry, Snape' Lupin inwardly winced. "We picked and prodded until they sought a leader to help them defend against us. As Mr. Potter said, 'No one is always right. No one is always wrong.' That is true of all Houses, Mr. Weasly. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was Slytherin, but he had followers from ever House. Every House, including Slytherin, had those that opposed him. But they weren't always able to act on their views."

"That is because they were cowards. You should always act for what is right," insisted one of the Gryfindor girls. Other students nodded in agreement.

"Always? Your House at Hogwart's is supposed to be a family to you. If you shun your own family, and the other families within the confines of these stones automatically reject you due to your families' name or personality differences then where is your charismatic leader? Who would you seek to help in your defense? Your homework for tonight," Lupin swished his wand at the board. The following words appeared...

_12 inches: _

_Write about actions that typically cause people to feel the need to act in defense then devise and write about specific examples of how to solve that problem in a way that will lead to people feeling less of a need to defend._

* * *

The fourth year Slytherins sat in Professor Lupin's defense class.

"Part of defense is knowing when you need to defend and with what type of defense. Thoughts?"

"Always defend against non- Slytherins," muttered Draco.

The wolf's ears heard. By the red hue on some of the students cheeks his classmates did too. Professor Lupin responded, "Always?" Let us begin today's lesson with a story." Lupin wandered about the room, his fingers laced behind his back. "Once there was a charismatic, handsome man. Many were drawn...


	8. The Bards Tales Twisted

Do you know The Tales of Beedle the Bard? LEGO has some wonderful versions on YouTube.

Do you know the Chinese folk legend of the Jade Rabbit? This can be found on YouTube as well.

You can enjoy this chapter without knowing those tales, but if you do know them you will have a deeper appreciation of the chapter title and the purpose of the tale in this story.

Note: The movies showed Beauxbaton to be a girls school and Durmstrang to be a boys school. Co-ed schools were indicated in the books.

* * *

The six winged horses glided gently onto Hogwart's green expanse. The carriage door opened and the 17 year old men and women of Beauxbaton descended from their carriage. Their lithe frames glided with such grace and superiority that even Draco salivated with envy.

Then the massive wood sailing vessel of Durmstrang emerged from the glossy lake. A gang plank was lowered and the muscular frames and buxom beauties of Durmstrang's finest looked down upon, in their eyes, the waiting plebeians. When they deigned to cross the lawn and enter the castle people naturally gave way to them. Even as they stepped back some were rehearsing pickup lines or conniving ways to ensnare students from either of the new arrivals into a tryst.

Somehow all of the congregation made it indoors without any of the raging hormones being acted on, though the need to do so only increased as each school performed a dance for the others. Beauxbatons was a ballet to harp music and reminded the students of spring as flowers and butterflies swirled through the air. Durmstrang's brought to mind images of Thor with drums beating and lightning flashing. Hogwarts waited until after the feast to perform the play Twisted Fairy Tales for their guest.

* * *

"Hogwarts welcomes our geust. Tonight we shall perform for you a tale written by one of our own. Without further ado we present to you Twisted Tales by Night Hawk.

_The curtain rose._

Scene One

Once there was a raven named Corvus that desired the best the world had to offer. Corvus tricked a witless king into giving him a golden chalice, jewels and a mural emblazoned casket. Corvus saw that many a raven lost their wealth and freedom when they were foolish enough to fall in love. To prevent any chance of the silliness of love occurring to him he removed his heart and replaced it with a plastic heart that would endure long past the muscle heart he had removed. Corvus secured his true heart in the mural casket. Corvus' parents passed on leaving him with a set of nest and perches upon which he stashed his prizes. He celebrated his inheritance while barley giving a thought, and certainly not a feeling regarding his parents' passage. Corvus possessed magical powers. Forest creatures approached Corvus, seeking magical aid. Corvus turned them away. Fixing the ills of mewling brats or the aching eld' would bring him no prize and he had not heart to care.

Scene Two

Many acres away in an oak shrouded wood a badger named Brock lay in a pool of his own tears. He had been be-set with a stone from Death himself. The stone, spun thrice in its paw conjured a ghostly image of his dead beloved. He sobbed at her translucent feet, begging for forgiveness for not coming to her aid on the day of her demise. "My love, I am loyal to you and our kind. I was angry that you sought to provide healing herbs to the ewe. It was only a knick to her leg and her tears will dry with the arrival of next year's lamb. The lamb was a tasty meal that we needed! I have not consumed lamb since your death and never intend to again. But I should have remembered my loyalty to you! I should have gone with you! I have hunted for the wolf that killed you but I have not found the wolf. Please forgive me, My Love!"

But she was angry and did not forgive. Brock, unforgiven and unable to forgive himself impaled himself upon the sheared point of a jagged rock. Brock left this world. Meles, his ghostly wife, did not. Her tormented soul was left to wander.

Scene Three

A wolf bayed at the moon. Surrounding him were the shattered remains of a wooden structure. Beneath her paws lay the corpse of two sues (pigs). Again she called to the forest warning off prey and calling her mates to dine. The pack responded with racing speed. The feast was consumed. Jaws bloodied they each retraced the paths to their homes. The night was yet young. Ahrima, the wolf that out witted two of three brother pigs and had once consumed a badger in a field of sheep, happened upon a girl cloaked in red. Ahrima stalked the child's path. Instead of frightened. The child was intrigued by the wild beast. The wolf, disconcerted by the child's curiosity and fearing the truth light would bring fled along the path and through the door to her home. In the moments before a knock rapped on her door the sun rose over the horizon and Ahrima painfully transformed into an ancient Grandma. Ahrima climbed into her sleigh bed and in a crackly voice hailed, "Come in!"

"Hello, Granny! I've brought you a basket of food." Aiyana removed her red cloak and hung it on the door. "It is curious Mama always knows when you will take ill."

"A seer, she is, my dear. " In truth Ahrima's daughter likewise took the guise of a wolf once a month, and one day Aiyana would join in the monthly hunt. Her lack of fear this morn showed she would soon be ready for the bite.

Scene Four

Jade Pika, the ancient alchemist rabbit watched the world's happenings from his home, the moon. Jade Pika frowned at the goings on. Corvus evaded death with a lack of a loving heart. Brock evaded pain with death. Meles, who had given of her heart in life, clung to her spirit with anger and pain. Ahrima alone sought not eternity through life or death, but through the continuance of parent to child.

Jade Pika had been granted the task of brewing and dispensing life's elixir. None but the chosen were allowed to live forever. Jade knew this better than any other for his imprisonment on the moon was due to giving into fear when a powerful witch demanded access to the elixir and out of fear; Jade had given it to her.

Perhaps his penance would end if he could set these souls on their proper path.

Scene Five

Jade Pika waited for the immortal serpent, Wadjet, to arrive for his millennial brew of eternal life. But Jade Pika added an eel eye to the potion which caused Wadjet to become blind. Then the rabbit made a deal with snake. "I will brew a potion to return your sight if you but convince Corvus, the raven, that he must have The Wand of Life. The wand cannot be simply given to Corvus. Corvus must earn it with true feelings of the heart."

Wadjet hissed, "Why should I not kill you for your insolence?"

"Do you wish to be a blind snake fated to die in 1,000 years? Or would you prefer to be a sighted snake traveling space expanse forever? Only I have been granted the knowledge of the elixir of life."

The snake consented to complete the task. Jade Pika attached the wand to the snake's back.

Scene 6

Wadjet slithered down to Earth and located Corvus, the raven. Wadjet observed Corvus for many moons and plotted and planned before the blind snake approached the bird. Tongue flicking, smelling the air, Wadjet made his offer, "Raven Corvus, I have seen that you are a great collector. I possess a powerful wand, The Wand of Life. It would be a grand addition to your treasures!"

"You would give it to me?" cawed Corvus.

"I could, but then its power would be diminished. Wands choose their owners and only grant their full power to those that have earned it."

"Prove to me the wand's power," demanded Corvus.

Wadjet had anticipated this. "Follow me," he hissed. The two made their way to a wood. Just as the sun was setting Corvus saw a woman cloaked in red. Wadjet smelled the were-women. "The power of this wand will morph that woman into a wolf. Watch." Wadjet lifted the front of his body and moved the wand attached to his back by swaying side to side and up and down as he sibilated words in Latin. Before Corvus' eyes the women became a wolf.

Corvus salivated, "I must have that wand. How do I earn it?"

"It is The Wand of Life. It is earned with true feelings for the living," Wadjet explained.

Corvus warred with himself on what to do. The desire to own the wand won out. Corvus sliced from his chest the plastic heart and replaced it with the live one he had preserved in the mural casket. With the real heart feelings returned to Corvus. The onslaught of sympathy for the weeping ill and the loss of his parents were sensed by the wand and it tore from Wadjet's back and flew to the clasp of Corvus' beak. The wands flight jostled branches causing Corvus' bobbles to disentangle from the branches that held them. In Corvus beak the wand remained for the briefest of moments before Corvus' heart squeezed with such ferocity that the heart stopped its beat. The wand clattered to the ground as Corvus' soul escaped its body and took flight into the sky. Seven of the loosened jewels were carried away with his spirit. Together they formed the Raven constellation in the western night sky.

Wadjet rode the River Aurora back to the moon. Jade Pika honored his promise and returned sight to Wadjet. Wadjet jettisoned away not to appear for a thousand more years. In his wake he left the 5 glittering gems of the serpent constellation of the northern sky.

Scenes Seven and Eight

Jade Pika awaited Aetos Leo, the eagle lion. In due time the griffin arrived for his millennial dose of eternal brew. This time Jade Pika added moonstone to the potion. Aetos Leo drank deeply and glowed bright.

"What is the meaning of this!" roared Aetos Leo as he flapped his wings, "Why have you stolen my stealth?!"

"Meles the badger has trapped her eternal spirit on Earth. Her anger and fear holds her there. She rages at those that hurt her and weeps for the wounded she was unable to help. Take her to the Pensive River which flows about the Fountain of Fair Fortune. Allow her to release her tears and fears. Guide her spirit. When this is done return to me and I will gift you with a cloak of invisibility so you may continue your stealthy hunts."

Aetos Leo cawed in anger, front talons racking the moon's surface, back paws forcing a mountain from the flat ground.

Jade Pika cowered in fear of the great griffin and hid himself in the dying light of the waning moon. A sonorous spell caused Jade Pika's voice to rebound from the shadows. "Help Meles and the cloak is yours."

"You would make a tasty morsel, Jade Pika."

"True, but then you'll burn bright, unable to hunt with your death guaranteed a thousand years hence. Only I have been granted the knowledge of the eternal potion." Jade Pika purposefully did not remind Aetos Leo that he likewise was immortal due to the rejuvenating effects of the Potion of Eternal Life.

"Give the recipe to me," crowed Aetos Leo.

"It is protected by Fidelius. I am unable to divulge the makings of the brew," Jade Pika explained.

"Have the cloak ready. Drop it to Earth when I succeed. Must I come near you soon I will likely consume you," growled Aetos Leo. Aetos Leo, the griffin, eagle-lion leapt from the moon's surface and winged his way to Earth and glided over the weeping Meles. Aetos Leo, being an impatient being, attempted to grasp Meles with its talons. The sharp claws glided through the ghostly spirit. Aetos Leo huffed in frustration and came to land near Meles.

"Stop that infernal weeping," Aetos Leo grumbled.

Startled, Meles bared her hackles as she backed cautiously away.

"Too caught up in your emotions to notice I am unable to harm you and you are unable to bite me, "Aetos Leo said, disgustedly. As proof, Aetos Leo rushed towards the quivering badger. Meles bit and clawed at the griffin, but her weapons went straight through. Despite not being able to be injured, the event shook Meles and her tears began anew.

"Enough!" roared Aetos Leo, "I am to take you to the River Pensive."

"Why should I go with you?" Meles bared her teeth once more.

"I grow weary and hungry. I smell sheep on the air. I shall feast then return for you."

"No!" shouted Meles, "We shall go to the river now." Aetos Leo led Meles up the steep mountain. Her mood had transformed once more from anger and fear to weeping. She fell in the River Pensive and allowed the currents to carry away the salty drops from her face and also to the water clung her anger and fears. Returned to her were the memories of those she had helped in life and of her mate Brock, and his consistent loyalty to her in all but that one task. She wished to join him in the hereafter. Meles looked up as a shimmering fabric drifted from the sky. The cloth descended upon Aetos Leo and he vanished from sight. Meles was astounded! But her speedy brain seized on one last opportunity to assist her friends the sheep before rejoining Brock. Meles seized the edge of the cloak that had landed on her paw. She hid herself beneath its folds as she sped down the mountain toward the sheep herd. Aetos Leo followed her scent and occasionally Meles' paws as they appeared from under the cloak. Meles slowed her pace and worked to conceal her trail as she neared the sheep herd. And near it she did. With a force that bellied her size she swung the cloak out and over the sheep. Her task complete she dashed into the sky. Aetos Leo, finally spying its prey, followed Meles into the sky. Her body transformed into the 8 starred Badger constellation of the east which would forever be chased by Aetos Leo, the 12 Moonstone Griffin constellation of the southern sky.

Scene Nine

Jade Pika sighed in contentment. His task complete, though not precisely in the way he intended. He closed his eyes and breathed deep. Upon opening his eyes he found himself not on the moon, but on Earth. Before him stood Aiyana, in all her human beauty, a fully grown woman. Jade Pika, the rabbit animagus transformed into Bab, the former laundrymen of a castle in a far off land.

The two shared their names, their stories, their lips in a succulent kiss.

But when the full moon struck Aiyana divested of her red cloak and became her wolf form. Bab, so as not to be turned into a werewolf bunny (for who knew if such a creature could survive) reverted to the bunny, Jade Pika. Aiyana's mind was lost to her during her plight. The instinctive hunger of the wolf overtook her and she consumed her true love, Jade Pika. Jade Pika's spirit rose from his furry remains. Though immortal Jade Pika fled to the safety of his moon prison. There his body re-grew around his soul. Jade Pika watched his love from the safety of well above. Each full moon Aiyana saw the image of rabbit hiding in reflected sunlight and she howls as she mourns her lost love, while Corvus, Wadjet, Meles and Aetos Leo chase each other as sparkling diamonds in the sky.

_The curtain fell. _

Professor Dumbledor stood stage center, "Let us have a round of applause for each of our performers. In order of appearance...

Corvus, played by Zacharia Smith

Brock, played by Anthony Goldstein.

Meles, played by Susan Bones.

Ahrima, played by Astoria Greengrass.

Ayiana, played by Katie Bell.

Jade Pika was performed by Kevin MacCalister

Wadjet was played by Draco Malfoy.

Aetos Leos was played by Fred and George Weasley, who insisted on sharing the part.

Set artist, please rise from your seats and take a bow.

Off stage magic performers, please exit the wings and be acknowledged.

Finally, our musical accompaniment a trill, if you please."

After each person or group was presented applause reigned. The night was a success.

The play would be performed on the winter solstice for families, with another auction of the set props planned to help fund next year's performance. Harry fully intended to have his company, McTacozzia be ready with pizza boxes containing trading cards of the performers. Between the, play, The Quidditch World Cup and the Tri-Wizard Tournament this was looking to be a profitable year.

* * *

**References**

Aiyana means forever according to the site Dogs and Dogs Advice.

Ahriman: the creator of wolves...Middle East fable...according to Wikipedia. I dropped the n to make it a girls name.

griffin: the front half is an eagle; the back is a lion.

Aetos...Zeus' eagle...according to the site theoi.

Leo: Lion

Corvus: genus name for ravens...Wikipedia.

Brock: ancient Scott word for badger...Wikipedia.

Meles: genus name for badger...Wikipedia.

Pika: absurdly cute Asian mammal

Ili Pika: very rare Asian rabbit like animal

Jade rabbit: Chinese fable...A rabbit sacrifices herself to starving men. In return they gave the rabbit eternal life and the skills to make the pill of immortality, which must be taken every one thousand years. The jade rabbit was approached by a women from the west who demanded a pill for herself. Jade wasn't supposed to give the pills to just anyone and as punishment was sent to live on the moon. Watch the story of the Jade Moon Rabbit on You Tube for further details.

Wadjet: Egyptian snake goddess...protector of lower Egypt...Wikipedia. I changed Wadjet to male.

Moonstone shines bright...HP Wiki.


	9. Contract Negotiations

Author's Note:

Speaking: "regular text"

People's thoughts: "regular text"

If this makes reading the chapter confusing go to my profile page and send me a PM.

* * *

Hermione looked up from her book, "Where are you going, Harry?"

"Detention with Professor Snape."

"Again!?" Ron looked at Harry incredulously, "That man has it out for you."

"After the last one Sirius sent him a package of warm dung, but he used Hedwig to send it. Snape thinks I sent it or that I put Sirius up to it." Harry turned toward the door, "My advice, don't let your brothers seek revenge for you."

* * *

Snape rose from his seat in the Headmaster's office. "Must you rush off so, Severus?"

"I must. Potter has earned himself yet another detention."

* * *

Harry entered the potions laboratory. Snape knocked the drips off a ladle and set it aside.

"Alibi set?"

"Of course. Yours?" Harry looked his professor straight on.

"You dare to ask?"

"Sorry, Sir. Just practicing my Gryffindor nerve. I wouldn't want to get so out of the habit that they become suspicious of my actions."

"Now that was a snake's answer. Are you ready?"

"I believe so, sir."

* * *

"You can call me Auror Moody. I am your substitute while your teacher is out. Today you'll be learning how to make falling objects bounce. Now enough of those gobsmacked looks. You ever have a tree dropped on your head? a chair? a book? Ah, now I've hit on something. Ravenclaws do have a tendency to use what they have in hand as a weapon. Now, if you don't want to get struck by objects flying your way you need to be able to bounce them off in another direction. The incantation is dissultavi."

The lesson continued.

* * *

The man's face gleamed with triumph as he retreated from the Goblet of Fire.

* * *

The students watched transfixed as the Goblet spewed names in a flash of blue, cheering for each new competitor...until the last.

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore looked in puzzlement from the torn parchment to the boy being shoved to his feet by Hermione. "Mr. Potter, your presence is required in the -."

Harry glared down at Hermione.

"You have to go, Harry," Hermione insisted.

"No. I don't." Harry posted a foot on the bench and climbed so he stood on the table. "I'm sorry, Professor, but I've had enough rumors spread about me. If people are going to be talking about me I rather it be something they heard from me rather than something they made up."

Snape smirked and his quiet comment carried across the silent room, "I win the bet Minerva. Potter is nothing more than an attention seeking brat. Ten galleons. Pay up." Scowling, McGonagall clunked the coins into his waiting palm.

Harry glowered at the pair. Some of the students giggled, others looked appauled.

"Professor Dumbledore, what would happen if I refused to compete?"

"You'd become a squib," Dumbledore stated.

Hermione gasped. Malfoy attempted to start a chant, "Withdraw, withdraw, withdraw..."

Harry levitated one of Hermione's, large, smooth books to in front of him as well as a quill and parchment. He jotted a few words and signed his name. The paper drifted from Harry to Dumbledore. "Professor Dumbledore, sir, that is my formal request for a copy of the official Tri-wizard Tournament Rules in quintuplicate."

"Quintuplicate?" queried Dumbledore.

"A copy for my guardian, one for me, one for my vault, one for my lawyer, and one for Hermione."

"Oye!" Ron exclaimed, "What about me?"

"Ron, your skills lay in physical strategy. I figured you could help me plan how to deal with task while Hermione works on the lawyer jargon. You'll be my official coach."

Ron nodded at Harry, "That's alright then."

Meanwhile, Dumbledore squeaked, "Lawyer? Surely, Mr. Potter, you don't intend to involve a lawyer in this." Dumbledore disliked lawyers.

Harry frowned, "Who else would file the paper work for my emancipation?"

"Emancipation? My dear boy, what are you speaking of?" Dumbledore was very confused. "How had Harry's name ended up in the goblet? How had Harry come to be the one that seemed to be in charge of the situation?"

"The contract, Professor. You said only of age wizards are allowed to compete and that I am bound by the contract to compete. Hence, per the contract, I am now of age. My lawyer will just ensure all the proper forms are filled."

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore tried to explain, "You are only 14."

"Which is why I'm not supposed to be able to compete. But, since I am required to compete, and my competition are all adults, to help even the playing field I must be granted the same privileges of freedom as the other adult competitors. The point is moot, in any case. My lawyer should be able to confirm my status as an adult per the competition documentation."

Snape sneered, "Or perhaps he'll prove the illegality of you entering this competition. How exactly did you get your name in the Goblet?"

"I didn't."

"Likely story," Snape's lip curled.

"You want proof? Dose me with veritus serum, Professor."

"It is illegal to give truth serum to students," Dumbledore and Snape spoke simultaneously.

"Only without permission, Sir." Harry began writing on another piece of parchment lying on the floating book.

_I, Harry James Potter, do herby give permission to Severus Snape to dose me with veritus serum. The serum will be administered on this night, the 31 October, 1994. Severus Snape, and only Severus Snape may ask me questions. His questions must pertain to my entrance in the competion._

_Signature: Harry James Potter_

The document flashed and Harry floated it over to Snape, who snatched it from the air. "What is the meaning of this, Potter? You want me to do the questioning?" Snape's voice was incredgulous.

"It's simple. You hate me. If I am able to convince you I didn't enter myself, no one should have reason to question it."

"If I hate you so much, why would I want to make your life easier by helping you reveal your supposed truth?"

Harry sighed. He flicked his wand and the veritus serum contract tugged from Snape's grip and floated back to Harry. Harry quilled:

_Addendum: Severus Snape may also ask me about the explosion that happened in my second year with the stipulation that I, Harry James Potter, am the only student punished for the activities connected with that act._

Harry signed and dated the contract and returned it to the Professor.

Snape read the addendum. His eyes gleamed. All versions of Snape had desired this information. Bond wanted to snoop. Batman wanted to grab the miscreants and shake them. L. Grant wanted to croon about the boy's idiocy. And Severus Snape, Dungeon Bat wanted retribution. "Deal." Snape dashed down his name and the date as Dumbledore pleaded with him to stop.

In short order Harry was dosed and a variation of the silencing charm was erected, such that Harry could only hear Snape, but everyone in the Great Hall could hear both Harry and Professor Snape. The contract was read to everyone. Amplification spells were cast on Harry and Severus. The interrogation began.

Snape: Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?

Harry: No

Snape: Did you ask another student to put your name in?

Harry: No.

Snape: Did you have an elf put it in?

Harry: No

Twins: Gasp!

Snape: Did you have an owl put it in?

Harry: No

Snape: Did you have a centaur put it in?

Harry: No

Snape: Did you have a goblin put it in?

Harry: No

Snape: Did you fly over and drop it in?

Harry: No

Twins: Dismayed groan.

Snape: Did you have an older student write your name for you?

Harry: No

Snape: Did you have an animagus put it in?

Harry: No

Snape: Did you have a half human put it in?

Harry: No

Snape: Did you bribe someone to put it in?

Harry: No

Snape: Did you ask anyone else to put your name in?

Harry: No.

Twin 1: We've failed

Twin 2: our mentor.

Twin 1: How could he

Twin 2: come up with so many more

Twin 1: ideas than us.

Dean Thomas: Snape's your mentor!?

Twins: Of course.

Twin 1: Without potions

Twin 2: there'd be no

Twin 1: Ribbit Rolls

Twin 2: no Dairy Diarrheas

Twin 1: no Choco Coughs

Twin 2: no Lemon Lisp

Twin 1: no Fruit Punch to make your fingers scrunch

Twin 2: to use as a no homework excuse.

Twin1: No...

Snape: Did you cause the explosion during potions in your second year?

Harry: Some, yes. Some, no.

Audience: Tittering.

Snape: Did you cause the explosion that was a distraction for the theft of certain potion ingredients?

Harry: Yes.

Snape: What did you brew with the ingredients?

Harry: Polyjuice.

Audience: Gasp.

Snape: Who did you disguise yourself as?

Harry: Crabb.

Snape: What was the purpose of this disguise?

Harry: To sneak into Slytherin to get Malfoy to tell us who the heir of Slytherin was.

Malfoy: Outraged.

Crabb: What's polyjuice?

Snape: Did your disguise work?

Harry: Yes and no.

Snape: Explain.

Harry: We got into Slytherin House, but Malofy didn't know who the heir was.

Harry was given a counter potion to return him to normal.

A satisfied Snape smiled like Sylvester catching Tweety. "For the explosion you will serve detention. For the theft you lose the privilege of your broom for a month. For sneaking into Slytherin House you are restricted to your dorm for two weeks."

Potter verified his understanding, "Yes, Sir, Professor." Harry glanced about the room at the staring students.

Ron looked up at Harry, "Mate, why would you let him question you about that? And why did you sign a contract stating that you'd accept the full punishment for it?"

"Given the choice, I rather be punished for something I did than harassed for something I didn't do. I didn't put my name in the Goblet."

"I believe you, mate. I'll hang in the dorms with you."

"Thanks, Ron."

The Hall exploded with speculations, reiterations and the passing of tales.

* * *

In the days that followed Harry was praised for his bravery by Gryffindors, complimented by Ravenclaws for his use of logic, shunned by Hufflepuffs for stealing their glory and harassed by Slytherin's with badges that read, "Potter Stinks."

* * *

Ron may have agreed that Harry hadn't entered the tournament, but when conformation of his emancipation came through Ron couldn't take it any more. "Rules are always bent for The-Great-Harry-Potter. Given a broom and playing seeker in first year. Winning the stupid play competition last year, and now you're 14 and are considered, 'Of age.' Perhaps we should start bowing to our next Minister of Magic as that is just going to be handed to you, just like everything else is."

"We're all given a bag of Every-Flavored Beans in life, Ron. Some taste good, and others belong in the bin. Don't know what each will be until you take a bite. Not my fault you spit out the good ones along with the bad. Sort yourself out." Harry gave Ron the two finger salute as he stormed out of the common room, up the stairs and slammed shut the door of the dorm.

* * *

A convoluted message from Hermione led Harry to a clearing with Hagrid, where he viewed what he was to fight.

* * *

"Um, Harry?" It had taken a lot of courage for Neville to approach the sullen teen, who had barley spoken in days. Harry glanced away from his red and gold bed canopy and looked at Neville. "I don't think you deserve to be treated the way you have been lately, and well, I thought you could use some cheering up." Neville handed a box of chocolate frogs to Harry.

Harry scootched up. His heart ached a little at the kindness. A tremulous smile formed. "Share them with me?"

Neville nodded. They chatted quietly at first, but soon were having a riotous conversation regarding the absurd achievements of those listed on the chocolate frog cards. "Neville, will you help me prepare for the tournament."

"Sure, Harry. What'd you have in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking...

* * *

Hermione researched the spells Harry requested. She and Neville helped him practice them to perfection.

* * *

The day of the wand weighing arrived. Harry was accosted by a pixie blond with too much makeup and outlandish attire. He could barley get out two words before her Quick Quotes Quill progressed across the page. Harry read the words upside down:

"His eyes glistened with the unshed tears..."

Harry's eyes narrowed. Without saying anything he pulled parchment and quill from his book bag and began to write.

Rita was puzzled, "What are you doing, my dear?"

"I've discovered that contracts in the magical world are easily created and very useful. Your readers want emotional drivel. I want free advertising for a business I own stock in."

"I don't have the authority to make such agreements."

Harry snorted, "No one had the authority to enter me in this nonsense. Didn't stop the idiots here from enforcing the contract. Sign it and I'll let you have your drivel."

Skitter hesitated.

Harry dumped his ink well over Skitter's article and snapped the Quick Quotes Quill, then he rose and started to leave.

"Wait, wait. Fine. I'll sign your stupid contract."

Harry sat back down and gave Rita all the sap her replacement quill and parchment could handle. On that day Harry felt satisfied with his deal. Later, he'd regret it. He should have looked out for his reputation rather than his profit line. McTacozzia didn't actually need help paying for advertisements. Rita wound up being charged for the "free" advertisments. She got retribution by writing truly nasty articles about Harry and his friends.

* * *

No cash. No credit. But reviews are welcome. :)

* * *

Emancipation will not be a focused of the storyline. It is there because the story is called Deductive Thought and deductively it fits.

* * *

Definition: The two fingered salute is the British version (European version?) of giving the finger. It came from the days of bows and arrows and was a way to say "nayna nayna nay na" to an enemy because you still had the requiste fingers needed to shot them.


	10. Chocolate Frog Cards

I don't own anything Harry Potter. Except for the box set of the books. And the HP t-shirt. And the HP playing cards. And the puzzles. Oh, and how could I have driven all those miles without Jim Dale? Hmm, I think I may have a pair of HP glasses somewhere. Okay, alright I own a lot of Harry Potter stuff, but it is all bought and paid for.

* * *

J.K.,

Thank you for allowing us to use our imaginations with your characters and plots.

* * *

[DT 9: Chocolate Frog Cards]

The day of the first task arrived...

Harry impatiently paced in the tent awaiting his turn against the dragon. His plan, such as it were, could put him in more danger than the task itself. Snape was going to kill him.

His turn arrived. "Here we go," he muttered then entered the arena to cheers and jeers. A ripple flowed from his fringe to the tips of his shoes with a wave of the Holly wand. Harry drew a deep breath and stepped into the flames blasting from the lizard. The crowd gasped as their savior stood proud and strong in the blaze, unburned and with a small smirk on his countenance. Through Harry's mind floated the image and words on the Chocolate Frog card:

**Chocolate Frog Card**

_Wendolynn the Weird ...enjoyed being burned for a spell could make the flames feel like a pleasant warm tingle. _

The Horntail's tail flicked back and forth as it hissed. Harry stood far enough back from the tethered beast to not be reached. From his pocket he withdrew the dragon statue he had earlier withdrawn from the pouch, sat it on the ground and whispered, "Gemino. Gemino."

**Chocolate Frog Card**

_Georgina Gemino devised the Gemino spell and promptly created havoc in Diagon Alley by over zealously duplicating her favorite chocolate raisin ice cream, thus flooding the street with the substance. Being a hot day, the ice cream melted leaving behind a gooey, sticky mess and a scattering of raisins that would stick to shoes for months to come._

Four statues sat at his feet. He levitated three of them a bit a way, for they would need room. "Engorgio." The statues grew from the size of a mouse to twice that of an elephant. "Draconifors."

**Rare Chocolate Frog Card**

_Edwin the Eld, who was not so Eld, miraculously won a duel when a sneeze caused him to say, "Draconifors," instead of the intended, "Draco, I confer." He unexpectedly found himself controlling what was formerly a statue of a dragon. One burst of flames, and his opponent was gone._

Instead of one, five dragons now roared and bellowed in the arena, which was far too small for so many giant beast. The crowd reared back, those in the front rows scrambling for higher seats. Jets of flames spewed past scaly skin and singed the hair of several audience members. Teens scrambled from their perches, seeking higher ground, stumbling and stepping upon each other as they went.

Sleek wings unfurled. The edge of one wing knocked Neville to the ground, where he bounced like a beach ball, then rolled gently down a hill.

Harry used the wings as cover as he snuck around the edge of the arena. So intent was he on reaching the egg that it went unnoticed by him that one of the stands was beginning to creak and sway due to its blazing wood frame. The judges were frozen in slack jawed shock at the scene before them. The few adults, or near adults, present cast stabilizing and fire repression spells on the bleachers. The dragon tamers, who had suffered the sudden mix of glee and fear at having more dragons to tend to split there efforts between erecting shields around the audience and trying to tame the untamable.

Harry edged closer to his prize. The mother scented him and swiveled her head, locking golden beams to emerald. Harry cooed in parselmouth, "I bring no harm to your eggs. But a danger lies in their nest. I've come to take away the threat." All five dragons forewent their attacks and tilted their heads quizzically at him. The snake language was like heavy metal to a rock-a-billy fan, in comparison to their own language. Similar enough they could decipher the meaning if they bothered to try, different enough as to not comprehend every sound no matter the effort. Harry had discovered this as he practiced the draconifor spell on his own statue dragon, still held in his pocket.

As the dragons muddled their way through his sentences Harry discreetly cast, "Verde vapor," and "Putridum ovum," on the fake egg.

**Chocolate Frog Card**

_Shelly Odorfus avoid capture during the Spanish Inquisition by the frequent casting of the verde vapor and putridum spells about her property. No muggle would come near her home. No wizard would for that matter either. The odor and mist trailed about her regardless of her location. Store owners banned her from their businesses. She died alone on her stinky property, unable to purchase goods or grow anything in her putrid ground. Shelly is a reminder to us all to not take protection too far._

Five long necks swiveled to the nest, drawing a whiff of the sulfuric air. Dragons, be they enemies or not, always protect eggs. They roared in displeasure at the rotten smell. Harry eased near the nest and hissed, "I will protect your babies. I will remove the rotten egg." Harry leapt back in startled surprise as the mother's head dipped near, then nudged the fake egg from her nest. It wobbled across the ground, coming to rest at Harry's feet. "Thank you. I'll take care of this." Harry bowed to the dragons then slowly retreated with backwards steps. As he went, he cast, "Finite incantantum." Four of the dragons solidified into statues.

The female whipped around. She nudge first one statue and then another with her snout. When she received no response she took threatening steps towards Harry and unmistakeably (at least to Harry) growled, "Fix them."

Harry paled, but did as ordered, "Draconifors!" The four statues came back to life. The female whimpered and cooed as she rubbed her neck against each of her former male foes, scent marking them as her own. Stupid humans. Didn't they know that roaring and fire breathing were how dragons proved themselves to be worthy mates? These four had proven themselves and now belonged to her.

* * *

Harry spent the next hour being simultaneously yelled at and praised.

Various Weasley's: "That was awesome!" "Remarkable mate." "Can you show me how to _?"

Hermione: "Oh, Harry! You survived! But I can't believe you did something so dangerous!"

Haggrid: "You brought Dragons to life! 'n'it grand to be a mummy! Oh, I do hope they let us keep one."

Ron: "I'm sorry. Mates?"

Judges: blubbering

Various students: "Your dragons burned my hair!" "My heart's still racing." "You brought them back to life! Why for Merlin's sake did you do that!"

Sirius, while smothering Harry in a hug, "You're nuts. You know that kid. Completely insane." Then added a kiss to the top of Harry's head "I'm so proud of you."

Malfoy: "Thanks for the headache, Potter. Couldn't you have used a quietening spell on the dragons?"

Harry responded: "So you need a Gryffindor to take care of you? I suppose you forgot how to cast a noise blocker on yourself?" Draco blushed and walked away.

Dragon Handlers: "Thanks, kiddo. We were lacking in males on the reserve." "Thanks!? THANKS!? How are we supposed to handle four more dragons!?"

Madame Pomfrey: "Well I never. You will be sleeping for the next two hours. You don't seem to have any injures, but you most certainly over exerted yourself."

"Aww. Come on, please let me stay up," whined Harry.

"Bed," the matron firmly stated, "You've caused far too much trouble this day and I will be too busy caring for the people your dragons injured to risk you causing more damage."

Harry pouted, but feeling slightly guilty due to the crowd waiting for medical care, as well as not wanting to have to deal with their complaints, he laid on the cot and drank the proffered potion.

* * *

Author's Note: The spells used on the Chocolate Frog cards came either from: Chocolate Frog cards, History of Magic references or from spells listed on Harry Potter Wiki.


	11. Blushing

I own nothing.

* * *

Warning: This chapter contains the spanking of a teen. If you perfer not to read such things, read up to the section that starts with the word Monday, then scroll down and pick the story back up with the section that begins with the word Tuesday.

* * *

After his nap, Harry was carried to Gryffindor Tower on the shoulders of his classmates. With a flick of a few wands music started, decorations decked the walls, and snacks and drinks were being handed about. The party raged for hours and Harry enjoyed every minute of it. Except for the itch at the back of his mind that kept him glancing at the door, waiting for Snape to come in and drag him away. Surely the man had to be steaming like water splashed on a grill.

But Harry ate pizza (supplied by his company, of course) and Snape didn't arrive.

He danced with a circle of girls around him. The dour man did not show his face.

He tricked the Quidditch team into a celebratory toast of what turned out to be a potion that caused their bodies to double in density for an hour, making it so they'd stumble with every movement. Still the portrait hole remained closed.

Someone released a practice snitch. Several boys, and one or two girls, clambered over couches, jumped on tables and bookshelves and lunged across the floor in attempt to catch it. Other students either cheered them on or yelled, "Watch it!" as drinks were nearly spilled. Neville was under a table trying to nab Trevor to get him out of the way of all the moving feet. Smack! His hands came down on where the toad had been a moment before, but instead of dry, rough skin, his hand contained a gold fluttering thing. Shocked, he stood up and whispered, "I've got the snitch." Then louder, yelling, "I've got the SNITCH!"

Right at that moment the door banged opened. "ENOUGH!" McGonagall, clothed in a tartan night robe, glared around the room. "You will conduct yourselves with a modicum of decorum, else a decorum course will be added to your evening activities for the next week. You have one hour to wrap this party up and should I have to return due to uncouth behavior again decorum classes will commence. Understood?"

There was a chorus of, "Yes, Ma'am," and "Yes, Professor." Then the elderly lady once again took to her bed.

"What are we supposed to do if we can't be loud?"

"I know," said Twin 1, lifting his brows in a suggestive manner.

"Right with you," replied Twin 2.

"What?" asked the crowd.

"Spin the bottle," grinned 1 and 2.

Twin 1 gestured to Harry, "And as today's champion..."

"...and conqueror of dragons," continued Twin 2

And then together, "Harry goes first!"

"Come on guys," Harry said blushing, "I don't think I'm up for this."

"Aww, our gladiator is afraid of a smooch on the lips. Come on Harry, it's time your glands caught up with your ability to fight. It's time you snogged!"

"Harry! Harry! Harry!" the crowd started to chant.

"Shh! Keep it down. We don't want decorum lessons," came Ron's voice.

The chant switched to a whisper, "Harry, Harry, Harry!"

"Fine. I'll do it." A circle formed on the ground. A bottle was placed in the middle. Harry flicked his wand and the bottle spun. And that is how Harry got his first snog. Standing in the middle of a circle of teens. Lips touched. Tongues brushed. Then Harry deepened the kiss as his fingers entangled in the sand colored hair.

And he was grateful that the door remained shut as the crowd cheered.

* * *

Sunday Harry was on pins and needles. Snape had allowed him the night of celebration, but surely today the man would read him the riot act for all those who had been injured by his conjured dragons.

* * *

Monday came. Logically, Harry knew he should be happy. He'd gotten off scot free. In reality, he was frustrated. He didn't even know quite why he was frustrated, but he was.

_That afternoon..._

Bubble, bubble, bubble, SPLAT! Splash! "EVANESCO!" Dribble, dribble, drip, drip drip.

Snape had managed to vanish most of the potion while it was in flight. "Potter!"

Everyone froze.

"Bottle your potions and get out!"

Students scurried to obey.

Harry shrunk in on himself at his professor's angry visage. In no time at all, the door clicked closed behind the last retreating student. Even Ron and Hermione had left with nothing more than a sympathetic look at Harry and a fearful one at Professor Snape.

Harry gulped. Snape seemed very, very tall. He wondered if he'd had the courage to draw his eyes from Snape and to his own body, would he find that magic had shrunk him down to his five year old size?

"That," Snape pointed at the ooze dripping from the table, "Was no accident. I watched you pause and consider before releasing the porcupine quill into the brew."

Harry's insides were shaking. Snape was right. He had purposefully dropped in the wrong ingredient. As bad ideas went, this one would probably make his top ten.

Snape grabbed Harry's arm, hauled him to an empty table, and leaned the teen across it. A moment later a stirrer morphed into a ruler and slammed onto Harry's rear. A gasp escaped his lips and he ratcheted it up to the top five of bad ideas.

Harry was a bit lost as to why he dropped the porcupine quill into the cauldron. He just knew that he'd been worrying about Snape's reaction for two days and Snape's non-reaction was putting him on edge.

The ruler smacked hard on the sit spot. Snape snarled, "You sat here, just last Thursday, for two hours, grinding porcupine quills to dust, simply for the purpose of using them in this potion. You've known since your first lesson that full porcupine quills dropped in a boiling potion cause the potion to explode."

The ruler struck Harry's upper left thigh.

"Today's potion was a wrinkle reducer. Imagine what would have happened to your classmates' skin, their young, unwrinkled skin, had I not vanished your potion, enhanced with the strength of a full quill."

The room fell silent. Harry trembled. He visualized skin, ripping and tearing as it attempted to rid itself of non-existent wrinkles.

The ruler fell on his right upper thigh. "Oww!"

Snape stepped to in front of the table and kneeled down to Harry's eye level. The man's eyes looked bewildered as he looked into the tear-stained green eyes. "Why would you purposefully explode a potion?"

"I...I...," Harry tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. He buried his head in his arm and mumbled something.

Snape caught only the words, "dragon" and "guilty". "Let me guess. The mutt praised you instead of taking you to task for nearly injuring half the student population and risking your own life."

Harry nodded and gave a small sob. In part he had been thrilled to have a parent figure show pride in him and the hug was one of the few he had ever received. But his guilt center had been well trained since the age of 15 months. The last few days it had been barraged with the sights and stories of students with singed hair and clothes, bruises from being trampled, headaches from roaring dragons, students waking from nightmares of a swaying bleacher, afraid of falling from high places and meanwhile being stuck in a castle full of moving staircases. He knew Ron would think he'd gone insane, but Harry just wanted to "_pay" _for the injuries he'd inadvertently caused so he could move on from the event and stop feeling this overwhelming guilt.

That, and if no one cared enough to say he wasn't allowed to do dangerous things, even for a competition, then he was right back where he had been at seven; with no one that cared if he ran down the stairs with scissors. At least not for his own safety.

Snape sighed, rose to his feet and stepped behind Harry again. "You have three weeks of Saturday detention making the potions to restock the infirmary of dreamless sleep, hair tonic, headache remedies, bruise balm and calming draughts."

Harry nodded, "Yes, sir."

Snape continued, the spanking, this time with his hand. He never struck a child more than six times with an implement, but at the moment Harry needed something more than the four smacks he'd received and the two he had left coming to him.

As the hand came down on his rear and thighs Harry let go of the guilt, worry and fear in jagged breaths and tears. Talking to and walking amongst dragons had been terrifying. If he knew when a flame was coming he was able to cast a spell on himself that would make the flame do no more than tingle, but dragon fire couldn't always be predicted. He'd had no guaranteed protection against their sharp fangs and giant limbs and had just lucked out at not getting injured by either.

He was The-Boy-Who-Lived! He was supposed to be a strong hero to be looked up to. Aside from that, he had been trained to hide pain and fear. Harry knew how to give a good show, to give them what they wanted.

But what Harry had wanted was for someone to drag him out of that arena and yell at him for putting himself in danger. Afterwards, he'd wanted to find a small dark space like his cupboard where he could safely tremble and cry. He was finding that release and protection now.

When Snape judged the tears nearing their end he paused, lifted the ruler, but did not apply it. "Now that your guilt has been asagued, are you ready for a few truths?"

Harry froze. Truth was a rare comodity, and could be as dangerous as a rearing crocodile.

"You are 14. Your opponents are adults. They, each being aware of the beast they were about to battle, used one flashy spell, then darted about, avoiding flames. You orchestrated a multi-act performance with showmanship, courage, poise and remarkable control of spell casting. Your Godfather had reason to be proud of you."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut as a different kind of tear came to his eye.

Snape let the moment settle.

Then he rested his hand on the teens back, raised the ruler, and demanded, "Don't you ever explode a potion just to get my attention!" The ruler WHACKED down twice in quick succession.

* * *

_Tuesday morning..._

Harry scooped up a third bite of corn flakes. Hermione read,_ "Majestic Structures: Alien or Mage?"_ by Gene Walker. Ron had a cheek leaning on a propped up fist; a half eaten slice of toast dangling from two fingers as he lightly snored.

"Harry? Look at this," Hermione indicated to an image of Sacsayhuamán. As the Dursley's avoided _shudder_ educational programs and squeaked and squawked at odd ideas like space aliens being involved in earth architecture the image was completely unfamiliar for him. But he found himself quite engrossed as Hermione read.

_The walls of Sacsayhuamán are composed of boulders weighing up to 720,000 pounds each. The edges are carved to fit perfectly together and the wall is several boulders high. Have the spells used to maneuver such massive objects been lost to time, or are we not alone in the universe? Could mages from the stars traveled to our humble planet and assisted our ancestors in creating magnificent structures? Are we in truth descendants of an alien species?_

Hermione continued reading about ancient buildings and why the author thought the buildings and artwork were not muggle made. Harry stroked Hedwig while listening to and debating with Hermione. They were so caught up that Harry didn't notice Hedwig had delivered a letter. A red letter.

The Howler sizzled and shook.

BANG!

_**Harry James Potter! **_

Ron was jarred awake by his mum's brittle, bitting voice.

_**How dare you step into dragon's flame?! What if your spell hadn't worked?! Gryffindors prove themselves with bravery, not stupidity. Charlie works with the beast. He doesn't set himself up to be roasted for dinner by them. Then you go and create four more of the monsters. Why?! Thought you'd feed the whole school to them rather than just yourself?! Well dragons don't need any help from you. They can get food just fine on their own. Speaking of food, the next time you're round our place you are grounded from desserts for a week! I'll not have you risking your life over a stupid contest. You have the nerve to prove your innocence regarding just how your name got in that Goblet, then muck it up by trying to win the damn thing! You are 14. You do not belong in this idiotic game. You want to show you have courage? Well show some backbone. It takes more bravery to stand up to your peers than to a beast. Just because they want you to be a flashy show off doesn't mean you have to play into their hands. You keep yourself safe Harry James or you'll have me to deal with."**_

Molly's voice faded into ringing ears. The letter shredded itself into a thousand pieces. Harry was the color of the sky at the dawning of dusk. His heart thrummed wildly and his eyes were as dry and as wide as a dust blown desert. He blinked. Harry's emerald eyes flicked around the room. To cower like a coward or crow like a carion? That was the question.

Harry drew the blood from his blushed checks into his lungs as he took a breath of courage. He turned to his feet and rose. The castle's inhabitants silently watched. "Magic is a powerful tool. I used it to protect myself and achieve a goal. But my actions risked all of you. People have more value than a prize. Professor Stewart is always telling us the importance of learning from other's stories to save us the trouble of discovering the lesson through experience. Well, I failed to learn from others and went out and threw myself into a mistake. But I did learn from it. Protections are meant to protect, so make sure they are protecting not harming. I will endeavor to not injury any of you during the next two task. I apologize to those of you that were harmed. I have already arranged with Professor Snape that I will be spending the next three Saturday's assisting him with replenishing the potions Madam Pomfrey used to heal those injured by the dragons."

"Are you trying to injury us more?" Malfoy called out, "Stay away from potions Potter."

Harry smiled a little, "I can slice and grind just fine, Malfoy."

"That you can," smirked one of the Gryffindors, "How about you show us some more of those dance moves, Harry?"

The blush returned to Harry's cheeks as some of his housemates wolfwhistled.

* * *

_A few hours later..._

Harry drifted through the sky on his broom. Blissfully alone. Ron was in Divination. Hermione the library. And Harry was in the sky. No one was mad at him. No one was trying to guilt trip him with their mutters. The next task was months away. Life was good.

* * *

Reminder: This is fiction. I have never spanked a child and never intend to. If you want to read more on my views and why it is in the story click reviews. I left a response there to a reviewer who wasn't logged in.


	12. Flashes of the Past

Warning: non-canon birthday date

Forewarning: There are a few things like Hermione's need to free house-elves and the lesson on unforgivables which have not been forgotten. I'm just adjusting the timeline of those events to suit the story.

* * *

**DAILY PROPHET**

**British Filth?**

By Rita Skeeter

_Potion's Master Severus Snape of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry proclaimed, "Mainland potion ingredients are superior to those found in the British Isles. Unwashed British plebeian dunderheads are incapable of identifying the use of a bar of soap let alone the incantation for a sanitation spell or hand sealant potion. Nor do they comprehend the importance of avoiding cross contamination."_

Azberthean Greneld flipped down the top of her paper and glared at the stringy haired git ordering a latte at the counter of Madam Puddifoot's Tea House, "Unwashed plebeian's a' we?" resounded her heavy Scottish brogue, "Well you look like you could do with a bar o' soap yerself. O' in'it you g't around to brew'n shampoo. You can buy the stuff you know."

Snape glared over at the potato sack shaped dame, took in her leaf stained petticoats, and dirt laden fingernails.

From another table Alexander Jordan's craggily voice rattled out, "If that's what you think of me and my goat livers and bat spleens then I won't be selling to you no more." Flecks of dried blood fluttered from Jordan's hand and down onto his eggs and sausage.

Snape's students may have a hard time believing it, but he did have the good business sense to not let loose his scathing reticence on business partners. The quality of the products provided by Azbrethean and Alexander were inferior and often contaminated, but they made up for that in quantity and locality. Quantity and locality were of vital importance when teaching hundreds of dunderheads with tendencies to waste and ruin potion ingredients. On numerous occasions he'd had to rush order ingredients from them. McGonagall had once suggested that if he didn't have anything nice to say that it was best not to speak. He'd responded, "You expect me to become a mute?" She'd sighed and replied, "Become mute when it suits your Slytherin needs. No use taking a hatchet to the stairs when your goal is on the third floor." He'd heeded her. Be nasty when someone deserves it as long as they aren't holding the salmon while you're a starving man. So he silently laid his coins on the counter, acquired his steaming beverage and vacated the premises.

Snape stormed down the path leading from Hogsmead to Hogwarts. Literally. Accidental magic spurned itself from Severus, driven by his emotions. At first it was a cold righteousness. A coldness so dense that the water in the air condensed into a cloud surrounding him. "Bloody idiots. Believe every damn word they read," Snape viscously muttered. Of course the words were true, they just weren't meant to be heard by a reporter. "Just how did she hear me? I was alone in my lab," Snape pondered.

"So you think we're dirty?" called out a dust covered man sporting a miners helmet.

Snape hunched his shoulders. The cloud started to drip ladybug size drops of water on his cloak as he held his tongue again. The miner, as filthy as he was, provided Snape with quality metals for caldrons and stirrers.

"I ain't no dunderhead!" insisted a petite blond, her hair a rats nest. "And I ain't no plebian."

Lightning flashed, striking the ground behind Snape's feet and thunder rolled toward the girl. The little sod confirmed her dunderhead status with the use of the double negative and verified she was plebeian with the non-word ain't. Yet for some reason the forest creatures let her get near them. They probably thought she was a forest critter. Come to think of it, she probably _was_ a homeless, forest crittter. Snape only interacted with her when she sold him the hairs of various forest beast.

Snape began to march pass the farm that supplied Hogwart's with most of its fruits and vegetables, The scent of fresh manure reached Snape's nose. Farmer Hargrove used his wand to slice through a pumpkin then picked up a chunk with his cow waste coated hand and shoved it into the juicer. Mrs. Hargrove saw Severus and shook her fist at him, "If you think being cross can contaminate stuff then every potion you've ever brewed must be contaminated. I've never met a more cantankerous fellow then you."

"DUNDERHEAD," Severus mentally screamed as a gush of wind, blew rain toward the clueless farmers. Dumbledore would set _him_ to scrubbing toilets if he dared to cause the school's food supply to need to be ordered from further afield. So again, he didn't speak. He thanked his lucky stars for the day he created the decontaminator potion. The house elves used it on every dish, pot, pan, and utensil in the kitchen. The potion instantly destroyed food contanimants.

By the time he reached the gates of Hogwart's his fury had gone from cold to steaming and the cloud and rain had evaporated into dense, humid air. McGonagall would be proud of him. Well, unless she discovered that he intended to get revenge. Best not to tell her.

* * *

It had been about two weeks since the first task. Though Ron had apologized to Harry for his treatment of him since the name drawing ceremony Harry didn't completely trust Ron's sincereity. Harry could see Ron's jealousy in minute facial expressions and actions. There was an unspoken tension and it made Harry uneasy about relaxing around Ron. There began to be days in which the two avoided each other rather than risking the tension turning into conflict. During Potions Harry slipped Snape an enchanted quick response parchment along with his essay on the nail polish remover potion.

Professor Snape had decided to be proactive. The Yule Ball would be held in December. Every girl in the castle would be sporting colorful nails and they were bound to spill the polish. In fact, it had already begun. Natalie Sparrow had splashed red and purple dots across one of the potion tables. She had used her charms on a boy, Leonard Archelies, and convinced him to do all the brewing while she applied her nailpolish. As both students were Slytherins Snape praised Miss Sparrow for achieving a goal and then after conferring with the boy praised him as well for succeeding at his. Natalie had wanted to avoid brewing. Leo had wanted Natalie to teach him to dance. Their joint privilege was to attend the ball together.

Snape distributed pipets and demonstrated how to use them to obtain precise measurements. The muggle raised were familiar with the measurement markings and could easily fill the pipets with liquid to the correct lines. Mathematical studies were limited in the wizarding world. What need was there for them to learn how to use such markings when the _concalculate_ spell could inform you of the precise length of an item? They knew how to count and most could add and subtract. But they found the numberless markings confusing. Those that picked up on what to do, such as Draco, measured exact mL of each required fluid. Others like Crabb and Goyle just counted the drops that fell.

Once the students were working Snape flipped through the homework and found Harry's note. Throughout the rest of class he kept wandering back to his desk so he could respond to Potter.

* * *

_Dear Professor Snape,_

_Ron hates me one day, likes me the next. Then he hates me again._

_Suggestons?_

_H._

* * *

_H,_

_When did you come to the conclus_ion _that this entire castle is full of only three teenagers?_

_S._

* * *

_S,_

_Huh? Sir, hundreds of students are in the castle._

_Sincerely,_

_H._

* * *

_H,_

_Befriend them._

_S._

* * *

_Dear Professor Snape,_

_But, Sir! They all either hate me for being a champion or love me because they think I murdered the Joker when I was one! Why would I want to be friends with them?!"_

_Harry_

* * *

_Mr. Fuss,_

_Why would you want to be friends with someone who can't decided if they like you or hate you?_

_S._

* * *

_S._

_Exactly. I'm glad you agree that making friends with the other castle inhabitants is a bad idea. But what should I do about Ron?_

_H._

* * *

_Dear Unable to Read Between the Lines,_

_He is who I was referring to. Why do you want him to be your friend?_

_Sincerely,_

_Frustrated-by-Being-Stuck-in-a-Teenage-Note-Passing-Session_

* * *

_Dear Frustrated-Note-Passer,_

_I want to be friends with him because:_

_1\. The Y is 300 miles away._

_2\. Hermione doesn't fly._

_3\. Neville doesn't fly._

_4\. No Quiditch this year._

_5\. Hermione rarely plays games._

_6\. Neville rarely plays games._

_7\. Neither plays sports._

_8\. I'm bored._

_9\. I need a distraction from the tournament._

_10\. Ron flies, plays games, goofs around and would be an excellent distraction._

_Please help._

_Sincerely,_

_A-Very-Frustrated-Bored-Teenager_

_P.S. Frustrated-Bored-Teenagers often turn into Idiot-Dunderheads-Seeking-Unwise-and-Unnecessary-Adventures._

* * *

_H,_

_Have you read fiction? Your post script is how friends are typically made._

* * *

Sir,

Are you saying you _want_ me to go on an adventure?!

H.

* * *

Dear I. Jones,

The local villagers have found themselves worthy of your paternal seed's honor. Wait 'til Thursday then speak with the twins.

S.

* * *

_Wednesday afternoon..._

Fred and George sat attentively in the front row of their favorite course, Prank Ingredient Creations, known to the more mundane as Potions.

"Today you will brew the Sound Recording Potion." Snape uncorked a potion's vial and his voice suddenly exuded from the glass container as his lips stayed shut. "This potion will record brief auditory messages that can later be replayed." More than just Fred and George seemed intrigued, though only Fred and George were already whispering and jotting down notes regarding its potential explotations. Professor Snape took up where the vial left off. "The final ingredient of the potion will determine the causation of the message playing. Pungous onion will cause it to speak when the container is opened; red myrrh for when touched by a wand; gomas barbadnesis for touched by hand; and flitterby to activate upon its breakage. Your homework will be a chart on the benefits and downfalls of each type of activation."

* * *

_Thursday..._

Fred and George scanned through their chart.

**pungous onion**: reacts upon opening

uses

icebox: have the 'food' call out, "Close the door! You're letting all the cold air out!" or "Help! I'm melting!"

dish cupboard: the 'dishes' beg, "Please! Not pea soup!"

pumpkin juice bottle: the juice complains, "Uhg. Bad breath again?"

downfall

You may have to wait a long time for someone to open the container.

**red myrrh**: wand touches the object

use

bedside table: every time the person sets their wand down animal sounds or music will play, then when the witch or wizard picks up their wand to try to stop the noise it automatically stops! They'll set the wand down and the noise will begin again! Pick it up, sound off; set it down, sound on!

downfall

You can't use this prank on those under the age of 11.

**gomas barbadnesis**: touched by hand

use

This will work on those under 11! Little ones are easy to deceive! Use it to make them think they're hearing disembodied voices! It could be applied to toys and other objects they are likely to touch.

downfall

Parents for some odd reason think munchkins are helpless and shouldn't be picked on. We can only conclude that part of the assimilation process of becoming an adult involves the occludment of their memories of how pesky little ones are.

**flitterby**: upon breakage

uses

plates: the 'plate' yells "Ouch!"

eggs: many, many options

downfall

The chef may not have sufficient enough eggs left to bake cookies or cake or to make breakfast.

Fred rolled up their prank chart and unrolled the mundane version to turn in to Professor Snape.

**pungous onion**: reacts upon opening

use

Put it on your door or on the lid to the floo powder jar. Leave messages regarding things you need to remember to take with you.

downfall

If it's loud it might wake people up.

**gomas barbadnesis**: touched by hand

use

You can use it for notes for munchkins that can't read yet.

downfall

Munchkins would probably ignore the message anyway.

**flitterby**: upon breakage

uses

eggs: have the eggs spout recipe tips

downfall

The tips might distract the chef from their original goal and you wind up eating an egg salad sandwich instead of scramble.

Happy with the chart he returned it to his satchel. Serendipity approached in the visage of a fourteen year old boy with sable locks and emerald eyes. "Fred, George, I was wondering if you could help me plan a prank?"

* * *

_A few days later..._

Harry wanted to use his privilege as a legal adult, though not quite emotionally one, to venture into Hogsmeade. Ron technically was forbidden to go per school rules but wanted to join Harry anyway. Harry could have hiked off campus through the front gate, but Ron couldn't. Ron could have taken the path behind the witches back, but the two thought it would be more of an adventure to get there through the whomping willow and the Shrieking Shack. Sirius had told them about the tunnel and Lupin had chastised Sirius for encouraging reckless behavior. He'd also made them promise not to tell anyone about the tunnel, which was why Hermione wasn't along. That and she wasn't much for breaking rules without a good cause. Harry and Ron thought fun and relaxation was an excellent reason. Harry also considered it to be a way to reaffirm and substantiate Ron's commitment to their friendship.

So at 3:00 in the morning while their roommates snoozed Harry and Ron drew on the invisibility cloak. They crept pass the house elves that were gathering popcorn pieces and kernels that were hiding in crevasses around the common room due to Fred and George's corn cob pops. They tiptoed down corridors occupied by snogging prefects and a stumbling, drunk Trelawney. They sat swinging their legs over nothingness while waiting for floating stairways. They slipped through a doorway pretending to be a pink, floral wallpapered wall. They shivered as the Fat Friar glided through them on his way to the kitchens. They slid down a banister or two and stood flush with the stone when they heard the shuffle of Filtch feet. They trailed Monsieur Cruisé as the oil based figure twirled a brunette beauty in a sitting room, then dipped a red head so her hair grazed the floor in a ballroom and Frenched a blond in a country kitchen. The cad had a lady in every picture frame and each believed themselves to be his one and only. They acted as sentries to a suit of armor as it clunked its way to a new corridor. They dodged Peeves as he sealed the Great Hall doors with gum ball wads. They cast a mirage of a closed front door so no wandering souls in the busy castle would see the front door open as they went through. Then, like two teenage boys who have been silent and moving slow for too long, they made a mad giggling dash for the whomping willow. Neither noticed Professor Snape on the edge of the forest, levitating a picnic hamper loaded with potion ingredients gathered in the forest.

They collapsed on the lawn near the violently swaying tree, then took turns levitating rocks and sticks into bumps on the side of the tree, as they didn't know which bump would make the tree freeze. Their sticks and stones streaked from side to side dodging swinging branches. Eventually, one hit home, the tree froze and a tunnel opened. Ron and Harry dropped into the hole below the tree. Plant roots snagged their hair and specks of moist dirt caught on and stuck to their hems.

Harry turned and started walking backwards. "Do you have the Hollow Screams?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, Fred gave them to me last night. We're supposed to keep a record of their effects, as it is a new product."

The boys climbed the ladder into the Shrieking Shack. "Uhg, this place is a mess!" A mildewed bed with half the stuffing torn out filled one corner. Dust and cobwebs stuck to everything. The floor and walls had claw marks raked through the wood.

Ron's voice quavered slightly as he spoke, "I wonder what made all the scratch marks?"

"Dun'no," shrugged Harry, "All they told me was they made a lot of noise to scare the town's folk."

* * *

_Two decades or so ago..._

_The starving werewolf howled into the night. He craved meat. He craved to bite. His claws raked at the floors and the walls in his attempts to escape the wooden prison, then tore at the bedding when his escape was unsuccessful._

Ron rested his fingers on a dirty windowsill while peaking through a boarded up window. "You sure you want to do this, Harry? Pranks have never really been your thing."

"But they were my Dad's thing. Today would have been his birthday. It seems like the right way to honor him." Harry stared into a memory of a photo of his Dad sneaking up on Sirius, and then a bucket of ice water drenching Sirius. Harry smiled, "I think he'd get a kick out of this."

"Then we best do it." The two boys, covered by the invisibility cloak, stood near their chosen escape route, the front door. Harry checked that it would open and found it required an, "Alohamora." Harry gave the door a few testing swings and it opened easily.

Ron pulled out two eggs, "Thank we should cast _facere sudri_ on our selves first?"

"Nuhuh. What's the fun in watching their reactions if we can't hear what they are reacting to?" asked Harry.

"We know what it sounds like. Or at least what it's supposed to sound like. George said he'd borrowed the Tri-Wizard egg from you so he get the screeching right."

"Buck up, Ron. You only have to listen to it for a prank. I have to try to decipher the damn thing. 'Sides, I brought headache reducer." Harry pulled two blue potions from his pocket then replaced them. "Nicked it while brewing last Saturday."

Ron handed Harry one of the eggs. "On three?"

"One,"

"Two,"

"Three!"

Crack. The hollow egg broke on the wooden floor.

"**Eeeerreeeherrrrieehahhehwwwwerrioooiiiiuuuhhheerriiiieerrlll...!**" the wailing scream resounded through the room and into the night.

Harry and Ron jolted into the open doorway and were bounced back onto the floor.

_Dumbledore's Office_

_An eleven year old sat dwarfed in the cushioned chair made for adults. His parents were on the settee holding hands. His father spoke, "You are certain it will be safe for Remus here, that the students and staff will be safe."_

_Dumbledore nodded, "It has all been arranged. Our medi-witch, Madam Pomfrey will escort your son to a house on the outskirts of Hogsmeade before the dusk of each full moon."_

_A small, quavering voice came from the giant chair, "What about the towns' people? What if I get out and bite one of them?"_

_"Ah, such a good mind. You will do well here, Mr. Lupin. But no need to fear. I have warded the very walls and doorways no one will be able to enter or exit."_

Harry and Ron slammed their hands over their ears.

**"WHAT DO WE DO?"**

**"WHAT?"**

Neither teen could hear the other over the din. Harry yelled, "Facere surdi!," while pointing at Ron's ears and then spoke the spell again with the wand touching his own ears. Silence. The wailing continued, but Harry and Ron experienced no sound. It was as if they no longer had ears.

"Now what?" asked Ron. Both boys jarred as though struck for a moment. Though they knew the spell was supposed to cause deafness it was bizarre to talk or see someone talk and hear absolutely nothing.

Harry nodded his head towards the door that led to the tunnel. As they climbed down the ladder Ron's foot slipped on a rung and he fell onto the tunnel wall, shattering the shell of another Hollow Scream. The boys couldn't hear the additional cacophny, but the walls felt the vibration and dirt fell like an avalanche through what seemed to be a former tunnel.

_Dumbledore's Office_

_Dumbledore tilted his glasses down and looked into the mediwitch's eyes, "It is very important that you always close and lock the door when you leave Mr. Lupin and you must always ward the tunnel to prevent entering or exiting."_

_"I will do it, Headmaster."_

* * *

_When it came time to cast the spells she felt more like a prison guard than a healer, but she cast them anyway._

* * *

_A few years after that..._

_"I'm sorry I'm so late, dear," Poppy apologized to the anxious third year boy, "You wouldn't believe the maladies that come through my doors. But that story is for another time. Spot on. We must be quick now." She and Lupin briskly made their way to their destination. "In you go." Madam Pomfrey tutted and cast, "Remove Pulvm," vanishing dust from several surfaces. Then she swirled her wand over a bowl, "Agumenti."_

_A bowl. On the floor. Like a dog drinks from. He shuddered. He knew she was being kind, but the bowl left for an animal as he sat there as a human somehow made the experience worse. Yet her kindness toward him despite his condition warmed his heart. He tuned back in to her prattling._

_"...time to retrieve the steak. You'll have to wait unt..."_

_But the change was already coming. He felt it starting, "RU ...AAHHHHHHHHHHH..."_

_The n was lost to the air, but she was already sprinting for the door. She slammed it and leapt to the floor below, then skittered like a crab on hands and feet to where the tunnel rounded out. "Praesidium exitus!" She drew her wand in a circle around the edge of the tunnel, creating an invisible wall. She sobbed, in fear, in relief and then in despair as she heard each muscle rip, each bone snap and reassemble, each guttural pain wrenched noise as the thirteen year old's body mutated into a monster. It killed her that she could do nothing for him._

_"Aaaaaawwwoooooo!"_

_She closed her eyes. The transformation was complete. She took one more moment to regret her inability to do more, then trekked back to the Hospital Wing where other patients waited. She didn't notice that the door she had slammed and usually magically locked was slightly ajar._

_But the wolf noticed. Moony pawed at the opening and nudged it open. He leapt to the tunnel floor. The tunnel was blocked, but there was a few foot space where he could stand on the ground. The werewolf proceeded to dig a hole towards the surface. It took time. Some of the dirt fell away easily. Other parts required fierce gouging to break off even small chunks. He broke through the surface as the first gleams of sunlight glowed over the horizon. A human 13 year old found himself covered in dirt and horrified by all the could happens. "Stay at school, stay at school, stay at school," he chanted to himself. He couldn't take never ending months of his mother's mourning and his father's fear and repulsion for what their son had become. He didn't want to leave Hogwarts or his friends. So he did what must be done. "Leviosa conculcationem lentum." The dirt swirled through the air and back up into the hole, where it stuck. "Munda." The dirt vanished from his shredded clothes. "Lava cutis." The grime was whisked away from his skin. "Purga terrum." Grains of earth fled his hair. Then he returned to where Madam Pomfrey expected to find him. Now he had another secret to keep, and another person to keep it from._

Ron tapped Harry on the shoulder. Harry looked at Ron. "We should go back to the castle." Harry read the lips then shook his head and pointed up. Ron ran his hand through his hair, knocking dirt to the floor. He tapped Harry on the shoulder again and pointed to his ears, mouth and throat.

Harry encanted, "Finite encantatum." The noise returned to their ears and their hands slammed over them to block the noise. Ron handed his knapsack to Harry and tore off his robe holding the broken Hollow Scream. He scrambled back up the ladder and tossed it into the Shrieking Shack and shut the door. "Mum'll kill me if she finds out I ruined a robe."

"Then don't tell anyone."

Ron tried again to get Harry to head back to the castle.

"No. I'm finishing the prank. Are you coming with, or not?"

"I'm with you, mate."

Harry pointed his wand at the mound of dirt on the ground, "Forma tribunalis," he spoke forcefully as he moved his wand in a step pattern from the floor to the hole. They climbed the newly formed stairs and concealed themselves with the cloak before emerging. The screeches of the Hollow Screams ripped through the air. Their were a few people at windows grumbling about being woken and a few others that had taken the time to pull on a night robe and slippers to check out the commotion. But as Harry and Ron snuck away from the "crime scene" the sound dimmed to almost non existent past a quarter mile away.

Each house or restaurant they were able to sneak into they did so. They replaced one or more of each normal egg with a Hollow Scream. Then they found a quite hill with a good vantage point and sat and waited. And waited.

Ron's stomach growled, "Hey Harry, pass me one of those eggs, would you?"

"You're going to eat raw eggs?"

"Nope, I'm going to try one of Mum's spells." Ron pointed his wand at the egg and made a small circle motion then jabbed the wand toward the egg while saying, "Coque Ovum." Ron cracked the egg's shell then grinned. "There you go, Harry. Poached egg. Hand me the rest of them. We'll have breakfast."

Harry plucked a regular egg from the carton and was passing it to Ron, but it fell from his hand as a screech ripped through the air followed by the scream of a startled housewife. Both boys looked at each other and grinned. They started to gather their things so they could go peek in windows and observe the reactions of their "test subjects." Harry stopped Ron from placing the carton of normal eggs in his knapsack. "Hold up, Ron. Let me try something." Harry waved his wand over four of the eggs, "Aurem cera, parva." The eggs shrunk and morphed into wax ear plugs. Ears protected and cloak hiding them they ventured to the windows of the houses in which they had traded out regular eggs for Hollow Screams.

Vera flicked her wand at the sink and tea kettle then groggily cracked an egg on the side of a frying pan and watched the clear and golden glob slide into the pan and begin to sizzle. Then she thwacked the second egg shell on the metal edge.

**"Aahehhehaanehaneheooooeeeanhnnaaeeeoiionnnhhuuuossssoooiiiieeelllnuuhaa...!" **

The blast of sound blew her hair up and back like Lady Frankenstein. The dishes in the cupboard shook on their shelves. The water pouring from the sink spout vibrated back and forth in concert with the oscillations of the changing tones. The water seemed to be making it's own vibrating sounds.

Outside the house Harry and Ron were exuberating in their success.

_"We did it James! We're animagus!" Sirius grabbed his best friend in a hug then pushed away from him and turned into a leaping, licking, giddy dog. James morphed into a stag. The two animals jumped over and about each other and then chased after each other around and around the field. Not one to be left out, Peter closed his eyes and felt himself shrink into his rat form. The next time the black fur-ball came barreling toward him the rat leapt up and snagged his claws in to the black flocks and held on tight. The rat grinned in delight as the air ruffled his whiskers as the three animals celebrated in the moon light._

Ron and Harry raced to another window and arrived just in time for the sound wave to tumble a hanging rack of pots and pans that clangored to the floor causing Mr. Westing to jump into the air for the second time in mere moments. Mr. Westing filled the air with a blistering bellow of curses that were obscured by the continued shrilling of the Hollow Scream. Ron and Harry rolled on the ground howling with laughter until it became a struggle to suck in the air needed to laugh more.

_"Are you sure we should do this?" Peter questioned._

_Sirius rolled his eyes, "You just spent two years learning to be an animagus just so we could do this. You want to back out now?"_

_"No." Peter's nose twitched, "I just don't want to be eaten by a werewolf. He'll just nip at you. He could swallow me whole."_

_"Remus wouldn't do that," assured James._

_"Remus wouldn't, but a werewolf might," mumbled Peter, but he followed his two friends through the tunnel hidden below the viscous tree. "Shouldn't we have at least talked to him about it first, let him know we're animagus?"_

_"Play it safe Remus, who doesn't even realize that we know he is a werewolf?" James scoffed, "Like he'd ever agree to this. We have to show him it's safe."_

_Peter wanted to complain again about the claim of it being safe, but the fear of being kicked out of their little click was too great so he grabbed onto his courage and continued to follow. They came to the invisible barrier constructed by Madame Pomfrey._

_James, vested in the invisibility cloak, had previously followed Remus and the nurse and so knew of the precautions taken to keep the werewolf barricaded. He glanced back at his friends. "You two morph. I'll deal with the barrier and the door." Fear and anticipation ran through the blood of all three boys as the time to take the final step of their plan approached. With the grim and rat behind him he cast, "Obice perdere!" collapsing the invisible wall. "Alohamora," and, "Ostium apertum," aimed at the door caused the lock to click open and the door to swing forward. James became a stag. The werewolf peaked around the door. Upon seeing the other animals it lifted it's head and howled. The dog followed suit. The stag rent the dirt_ _with its hooves. The rat shivered as his blood ran cold, but the compulsion to join with his friends took over and he gave a squeaky rat attempt at a howl._

One of the many villagers that was investigating the morning disturbances spied the bottom of two pairs of shoes as the cloak inched upward on Ron and Harry as they sat on the ground laughing. Harry sensed the presence of onlookers. He got Ron's attention. The two brought their laughter down to a manageable level then raced for the forest, trying to keep themselves as covered as possible.

_The wolf, the hound, the stag and the rat spurned themselves out of the tunnel and pelted full blast into the forest. The night was theirs._

Rosmerta's heart trembled as the egg wailed. But she was a smart business women and had the frame of mind to vanish the offending item and the sound along with it. She vanished all of her eggs and floo ordered five dozen fresh eggs. The Three Broom sticks had a booming morning business as people came in to gossip about the happenings. Though the offending eggs had been destroyed the screech continued to ring in their ears, just as the haunting echoes of bagpipes tend to do.

_Snape's heart trembled as he awoke from the nightmare. It had been little more than a week since he had been trapped between a raving werewolf and a rearing stag. The clash of the horns and flesh jarred him as the sound played and replayed in his head moment after moment. He was an intelligent scientist, who knew that to solve a problem you needed to fix the cause. One cause was the idiot Headmaster allowing a werewolf on school grounds. That was out of Snape's realm of solutions. But he could fix the second cause, the loss of ones mind when in werewolf form. So he spent his free time concocting Wolfsbane._

Two exhausted, teen boys plopped down at the Gryffindor table and gathered eggs, bacon and toast onto their plates.

_Four exhausted, teen boys plopped down at the Gryffindor table and gathered eggs, bacon and toast onto their plates._

The _woman_ in _their_ lives _looked_ at _them_, "Where _have_ you _been_?"

"Morning_ run_," replied _all_ six _boys_.

_Lily looked skeptically at the four maruders._

Hermione looked skeptically at her two best friends.

Harry raised his orange juice in a silent toast to Snape. Snape lifted his own goblet and nodded in return.

* * *

Special thanks to Twice Upon a Book for being a beta reader for this story.

Reviews are welcome. :)


	13. Correspondences

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

_Dear Kreacher,_

_I hope things are well with you. I was in Hogwart's kitchens last night, grabbing a snack, and wound up attending part of their Friday night get together. They chatted about the absurd things they've had to deal with, like the four season's room. Apparently, somewhere in the castle there is a room where someone was conducting experiments on the seasons. The room cycles through the seasons about once a month, with each season lasting a week. They say it is a great place for the elf children to jump in piles of leaves, go sledding, practice swimming and harvest flowers. But it requires a lot of upkeep, like composting dead leaves and making the snow vanish so it doesn't melt and flow out into the halls. They also give each other cooking and cleaning tips, like heat some salt in a pan, then wipe the salt out, then put your eggs in. That way the eggs won't stick to the pan when you cook them. I told them you make really good cookies. Yours are actually the best cookies I've had, but I couldn't say that to them or they might think I was saying their cookies were bad, then they'd never make any for me again! I asked if you could attend their get togethers. They said you are welcome to attend and they would love to try your cookies._

_Sincerely,_

_The Potter Brat_

* * *

_Dear Brat,_

_I accept the invitation._

_Kreacher_

* * *

_Dear Sirius,_

_Thank you for attending the first task. It meant a lot to me that you took the time to come and watch. Bill sent word that they managed to get all of the dragon's back to Romania. The female, and the males I conjured have settled in a cave. They rarely leave it other than to hunt for goats. I have no idea how the males are able to act on their own without my direction, but I also don't understand how a car can know when to rescue you from acrumantula in the Forbidden Forest. I've just learned to accept that magic is unexplainable._

_How are things with you?_

_Sincerely,_

_Harry_

* * *

_Dear Harry,_

_You went back into the Forbidden Forest! Kid, you're going to give me a heart attack. Ah! Saying that makes me feel so old! I've lost count of how many times I've been in there, but I was usually Padfoot. If you go wandering in there again use the prohibere sudore glandulea potion beforehand. It will mask a lot of your smell so the creatures will have a hard time finding you._

_I don't understand why you sent Kreacher a letter, but he was over the moon about it. Won't stop baking cookies. Send him letters more often._

_Sincerely,_

_Your Godfather_

* * *

_Dear Wiley,_

_I've looked over the monthly reports and am pleased with the company's progress. I'm glad to hear about the free advertising and the resulting increased sales. Please instigate the development of holiday desserts. I'd also like the kids meal toys to be holiday themed. I've sketched some potential designs. _

_Designs include: _

_A toy Santa that says, "Ho! Ho! Ho!" _

_That one comes with the meal. Then have a bigger version for sale. Here's my idea for the big one:_

_A toy Santa that says, "Ho! Ho! Ho! What would you like for Christmas?" It should have the auditory recording potion on it so that it records the child's response and lets 'Santa' hear it. Use the gombas barbadnesis variation that allows it to be activated by touch._

_We should also make music boxes. Make the box to look like a present and be about the size of an ornament. Enchant the inside with the same potion, but use the pongous onion variation so it can only be heard when it is open. The ornament boxes should be setup to only play one song, but sell different songs each week to get people to come back. Make a big version of this one too, to sell separately, but have the big one play ten songs. You will need to negotiate with Professor Severus Snape of Hogwarts for the rites to the version of the potion that can record extensive audio as the standard potion only records short segments of audio._

_Accomplish this and I'll make sure you get a hefty Christmas bonus!_

_Sincerely,_

_Toby Levi W.D._

* * *

_Dear Wizarding Director T.L.,_

_Why was Santa written in quotes? You must be muggle born. Santa is real. He is a wizard. But he is exceedingly hard to contact if you are over the age of ten. He will likely use his own magic to make it so he can hear the messages left on the toys. _

_Looking forward to the bonus!_

_Sincerely,_

_Mr. Wiley_

* * *

_Dear Goblins,_

_I'd like to open another business. Music sales! Could you find someone to manage the company? My idea is to use a variation of the audio recording potion. Basically, I want a list of songs written on parchment. When a rune next to a song on the list is touched the song plays. I'd like other runes added to the paper too, specifically ones designed to prevent the paper from being copied or damaged. I'd like the company to be called Runic Tunes. I've included a sample version of the product. I apologize for the sounds you will hear; my singing voice is not pleasant. _

_Can you take care of establishing the business? A contract will also need to be negotiated with Professor Snape for access to his version of the auditor potion, which allows for extended recording and rune activation. _

_Sincerely,_

_Harry James Potter_

* * *

_Dear Professor Snape, _

_Thank you for helping me with the sample products for Runic Tunes and the Christmas ornaments for McTacozzia. The two companies should be in contact with you soon. _

_Sincerely,_

_Toby Levi W.D._

_Expenses: Hogsmead trip: 8 galleons, 12 knuts, 3 sickles_

_Savings: 93 galleons, 5 knuts, 2 sickles_

* * *

To: Michael Sawtooth

Location: Gringotts

The proposition of a 12% return on the venture with McTacozzia is acceptable. Please renegotiate the contract for Runic Tunes. Your cut will be 2% of the percent you manage to get it up to.

May your money bags be to heavy to levitate.

Severus Snape

* * *

_Dear Mrs. Weasley,_

_I'm sorry to have frightened you with the dragons. I honestly thought there would have been some kind of barrier between the dragons and the audience and the frigus ignis spell kept me safe from the flames._

_Hoping you are well,_

_Harry_

* * *

_Howler from Molly; one copy to Charlie and one to Dumbledore_

_HOW DARE YOU FORGET TO PUT A PROTECTION BARRIER AROUND THE AUDIENCE. I THOUGHT THE DRAGONS HAD DESTROYED IT! NOW I FIND OUT THAT IT DIDN'T EVEN OCCUR TO YOU TO ERECT ONE! THERE WERE CHILDREN IN THE AUDIENCE! THE COMPETITORS ARE THE ONLY ONES THAT ARE SUPPOSED TO BE FIGHTING BEAST IN THIS BARBARIC CONTEST, NOT INNOCENT CHILDREN! _

_...and only to Dumbledore..._

_YOU'LL PROTECT THE AUDIENCE DURING THE REST OF THIS FARCE, DUMBLEDORE, OR I'LL SEND THE TWINS ALL THE JOKE PRODUCTS I CONFISCATED FROM THEM!_

* * *

_Mum,_

_You're the best Mum in all the stars and planets! _

_Waiting patiently for our supplies,_

_Your Angels, _

_Forge and Gred_

* * *

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_There is an inter-school sports competition at school this year. Students from France and Bulgaria are staying at Hogwarts. I've begun drinking a language translation potion. It helps the brain interpret foreign languages and allows you to maintain the knowledge of the words you heard while the potion was active. Sadly, it only works on spoken language and most of what I've picked up is gossip and talk about hair and clothes. _

_Missing you,_

_Hermione_

Hermione opened her journal of un-sent letters. She had the vague notion that she'd send them to her parents when she graduated. Or perhaps a few years after that, once she'd ascertained if the adult wizarding world was as danger filled as her school. She flipped pass the letter regarding the cerberus, the one about the troll, the three page letter that included trusting a portioner not to lie about which bottle was poisoned and then took hold of a group of pages that included the escapades of the past two years. Coming to a clear page she wrote:

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_DRAGONS ARE REAL! I mean, I saw the one Hagrid had as a pet first year, so logically I knew they were real. But these were huge! Remember when we visited the British Museum of Natural History and we saw the skeleton of the iguanodon? These were at least that big, and likely bigger. They have massive wings and they really can fly and breath fire! The Hugarian Horntail is black and has bronze toned horns. The Chinese Fireball is scarlet and has a fringe of gold spikes about its head. The Welsh Green hums a seductive tune to its victim as it breaths out flames. The Hebridean Black has purple eyes! They were beautiful, but I was never more terrified in my life and not just for my own safety. The reason the dragons were at the school was for the Tri-Wizard tournament. They sent the competitors out into an arena to face down their dragons, like Sir Galahad in the tales of old, but without the suit of armor to protect them! Though, now that I think on it, perhaps a metal suit isn't a good thing to wear when being attacked by fire. My friend Harry used a spell that made it safe for him to stand in the flames. It still amazes me the things magic can do. But that wasn't even the most spectacular thing he did. Harry turned statue dragons into real dragons! Sometimes it's hard not to use magic to glue him in one place just so I'll know he's someplace safe. Of course Harry never seems to be completely safe wherever he is. I suppose I should just be grateful he is talented at defense and keep on him to make sure he knows as many spells as possible. _

_Then Hermione ended the letter the same as all that proceeded it._

_I know Hogwarts isn't particularly safe, but it is the only place I've ever had friends. Please don't take me away from here._

_Hermione_

* * *

_Mum,_

_Harry's a prat. Do you know he's petitioned to be an adult!? (line scratched out)_

_I've been a prat. (line scratched out)_

_Harry and I had a great time last night! We snuck into Hogsmead and... (line majorly scratched out)_

_I successfully used your coque ovum spell! (line scratched out...no use risking being given more cooking chores)_

_A tin of your chocolate chip oatmeal biscuits would be grand!_

_Ron_

* * *

TheIf you liked the chapter type a :) or a review!


	14. The Impossible Mission

Disclosure: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own any TV or movie characters.

* * *

I also do not own the song lyrics in this chapter. I have only included a few lines of the song. To read all of the lyrics look up:

_*One Tin Soldier_ (The Legend of Billy Jack)

by Dennis Lambert &amp; Brian Potter

It is one of my all time favorite songs due to the lesson it teaches.

* * *

Originally I wasn't going to write about the ball. Then I somehow came up with a 9,300 word story about it. I hope you find it entertaining! :P

* * *

Warning: This chapter contains references to bananas and donuts in a T rating way. Nothing happens with the bananas and donuts. They're just referenced.

* * *

Hogwarts Staff Meeting

Staff meetings consisted mostly of yammering, posturing and boasting. Snape used the yammering time to contemplate ways to lambast the castle's numskulls. During the posturing he catelogued his plots and plans. As McGonagall boasted over the raven hiding in the lions den he daydreamed about zipping down the Autobhan in a red sports car. Eventually, Snape ran out of distractions and grew bored enough with his own introspection to actually tune in to his boss.

"Minerva, you will be in charge of dance lessons. Fillius, please see to the decorations."

Snape mentally tallied his view of the assignments, 'The cat gets the night of the Ball off. So does short-stuff.'

"Professor Stewart I'm putting you in charge of the placement of tables and such."

'Baldy won't have to do anything as the house-elves will take charge of table placements.'

"Remus, you will need to cast wards in the vicinity of the sweets table to ensure nothing stronger than butter beer is added to the punch and that none of the Weasley twins' candies make it onto the trays."

'The wolf is more likely to spike the punch than guard it.'

_"_Professor Burbage, if you could, would you arrange some activities for those that find they have two left feet. I would like to keep the children occupied with activities."

'Burbage's activities could actually be entertaining, but since I need to maintain an evil bat image all I'll be able to do is glower at whatever she assembles.'

"Sybil, I was hoping one of those activities might be a table for the telling of fortunes?"

"The inner eye chooses its own time to make its appearances, but I shall endeavor to encourage it that evening."

Snape scoffed at her reply.

"Ah, Severus. Yes, let us see." Dumbledore scanned through his list, "Your job is most important. The propriety of this great institution must be preserved. You will ensure that the students do not ruin our good reputation."

Snape was flabbergasted! "Are you cracked!?"

"Severus!" Minerva was appalled at Snape's nerve, despite the answer of his question being, "Indubitably."

Snape ignored her, "You've instigated an event in which hordes of humanity will be consorting with their escorts and you expect me to prevent hundreds of randy teenagers from snogging and groping?"

"Our reputation is at stake, Severus. I am sure you will do well." Dumbledore continued delegating assignments, "Hagrid, you will secure your demonstration creatures in pens..." The list went on.

* * *

Snape glowered into the flames dancing in the fireplace. He-Who-Was-Too-Old-To-Recall-He-Had-Ever-Been-a-Teenager thought Snape could some how stop the natural mating instincts of the exuberantly hormonal. It was like asking him to put a stop to the need of kitchens and toilets. Some things were compulsory. The only thing that precluded such desires was putridness, pimples and bloating.

Teen boys often seemed incapable of realizing they had reached the age where deodorizers were a necessity. Out of self-preservation, Snape taught an anti-perspiration potion, prohibere sudore glandulea, to all students during the second week of every school year.

"We're brewing this again!?" was an oft repeated statement that week.

So dosing the student population with a sweat enhancer was out. Too many of them knew the antidote.

He briefly gave into imagining the effects of concocting a substance that would cause the students to have a sever pimple outbreak. But he knew that idea wouldn't work either.

During his first year of teaching the Hospital matron had hassled him for the pimple reduction potion to be replenished with such frequency that when he had been out searching for potion ingredients near the lake and she approached him yet again he levitated her to above the lake and dropped her in. He'd had to suffer through a lecture on the appropriate treatment of co-workers.

Snape enjoyed creating and brewing a variety of potions. Making the same one over and over made him feel like an Oompa Loompa, minus all the inane siging. It. Had. To. End. So he made the students make it. Some of Snape's harsh teaching methods had been fleshed out as he berated the students until they were able to effectively brew the concoction on their own.

Then he had a delightfully horrendous idea. He morphed into the Grinch, taking away all access to the potion. No brewing it. Not him. Not the students. Well, no students except for those two Slytherins whom started Klear Komplexions, with his help. Snape metaphorically shinned his knuckles on his collar. He'd made a killing on their cosmetics, as their main investor and creator of concoctions.

So a zit infestation was highly unlikely. They'd all dash for their supply of the lotion and 'poof' the blemishes would vanish.

What if the supplies weren't there when they went for them? Could he convince the house elves to peculate all of the vessels of it? House elves would likely refuse to thieve, but they could be manipulated into believing that it was a bad batch, and was dangerous, and therefore should be confiscated for the students' safety. Now that could work. But then a potion or spell that causes pimples would need too be designed and distributed. The theft and distribution would need to happen just prior to the Ball, otherwise the student would just order more of the pimple vanisher potion. The whole idea was just too convoluted. He'd have to devise something else.

It would be possible to effect the estrogen levels of the female population as to sync their monthlies. Snape shuddered at the thought of hundreds of girls all having PMS at the same time. Moody, crying, complaining woman that in one moment wanted to punch the bloke next to them and in the next wanted to snuggle. They'd also all require perk-up potions, muscle relaxers, and mood smother brews. Which would mean he either needed to do a lot of brewing or successfully teach three potions to every student in less than two weeks time. The idea was not appealing.

So, as he thought, preventing tongue swapping and wandering hands was impractical or impossible.

That left him with finding a way to prevent anyone from witnessing the "inappropriate behavior."

Snape pondered for a while longer.

* * *

Harry arrived for his Saturday detention. "Which potion would you like me to work on, Sir?"

"None. Have a seat." They settled across from each other on stools. "Our Supreme Leader has assigned me the task of maintaining the propriety of this school during the Ball."

"Maintaining what, Sir?"

"He doesn't want Hogwarts to gain a poor reputation. He suspects students will use the Yule Ball as an excuse to explore each others bodies. It would bring shame to the school if our guest returned home with tales of all the snogging and groping they witnessed." Harry had turned as crimson as a fire salamander. "Of course, if you are going to assist with this endeavor you must be made aware of what activities we are attempting to conceal." Harry's stool skittered out from under him and he leaped backwards as Snape un-hid a tray of donuts and fruit.

Harry gulped, "Sir, please. Sirius already gave me this, um, demonstration."

"The Mutt? Probably gave you a dozen tips on making it happen and not one on how not to become a teen dad or how to keep from getting ill."

"Ill?" Harry winced as soon as he said it. "Sir, please. I'll help. Just, please, Sir, can we skip the lecture."

"You are here for punishment, Potter. It is right that you are unhappy with the detention. Now pick up your stool and have a seat."

Harry suffered through another hour of the birds and bees described with food. But Snape was correct. His Professor's version was much more informative on the safety precautions than Sirius' had been.

"For the remainder of your detention you will work on composing a school newspaper on Yule Ball tips. You will include articles on the topics I have indicated." Harry skimmed the list and riffled through the stack of Teen Witch and Wizard Teen Weekly magazines Snape had given him. This had to hold the record for the most bizarre and embarrassing detention ever assigned at Hogwarts.

* * *

**THE YULE TIDE TIMES**

**Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y**

**Serious Tips on How to Get a Date**

Memorize the 3 Con's.

Confidence

Conversation

Confirmation

Implementation of the Con

1\. _"Tell me more about puffskeins."_ Pick someone who has shown interest in you. They show interest in you by smiling while making eye contact with you, they engage you in **conversations** other than, "Pass me the salt."

2\. _"Hmm, she's carrying a novel titled Dr. Who. Maybe I should ask her about Chinese medicine." _Observe their interest then start a **conversation** about something they are interested in. If you aren't comfortable starting the conversation directly with them sit near them, then start the conversation with one of your friends. If they are interested in you they will insert themselves in your conversation or may at least look interested in your conversation which will give you a better reason to ask them a question about the topic.

3\. _"Mage of the Mirror how do I appear?_" **Confidence** Make yourself presentable.

4\. Do something you're good at so you'll feel **confident** before engaging them. _"A disguised copy of With-it (or Without) Witches is slide from its cherished place under the pillow and is whisked from your hand and whapped across your head by your best friend as she screeches, "Not that!"_

5\. **Conversation**: Ask them about their day, then start slowly walking while you are talking to them. _"Were you able to get your chichevache or bicorn to eat? Mine wouldn't even eat rats. Rodents must swap nest partners a lot. It did bite me though! So you know you can trust me to be loyal. Hey, why are you walking away! Wait up!"_ Remember to look them in the eye frequently, but not so frequently that you trip over your own two feet. The purpose of walking is two fold. It lets you guide them away from their friends and if they say no you are already moving so your get away will be less awkward. If you anticipate that their friends are likely to tag along for the walk then head that likelihood off by having one of your friends intercept them with a different conversation. Your friend can lead them on a walk towards a different location.

6\. Stay **confident**, but calm while you chat.

7\. **Conversation: **Ask them out. "Would you like to go to the Ball with me?"

8\. Whether they say yes or no stay calm, **confident** and friendly.

9\. **Conversation**: If they say, "No," you say, "Perhaps another time." Then either make a graceful exit or talk about one of their interest until you can gracefully part.

10\. If they say yes make a suggestion about when and where you'll meet. **Confirm** the details. "Let's meet at 7:50 near _."

**Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y**

**Dressing Your Best: Gents**

Gents, the "in" attire this year is a crisp, clean button down shirt, unwrinkled slacks, shiny shoes and a spiffy dress robe.

The spell for de-wrinkling is _nonrugam_. Lay the clothes out flat. Position your wand parallel to the clothing. Cast the spell. Move your wand over the parts of the clothing that needs the wrinkles removed.

To shine your shoes use _luceat calceus._ Pronounce luceat, "looseut." Point your wand downward and move it in a circle three times.

You are trying to be attractive to your date, not to a bumblebee. Don't drown yourself in cologne.

The definition of cologne: scented toilet water

Are your robes out of style?

Does the robe have lace? Get a good pair of shears and give it a careful trim.

Are the cuffs frayed? Cast _emantur_ the wand movement is small, cursive o's.

Is it the wrong color? Touch your wand to it, imagine the color you want and say, "_Petina_!"

Is the shirt covered in ruffles? Wear your school shirt instead and transfigure the buttons to make them fancy_._

**Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y**

**Dressing Your Best: Ladies**

You are a women, not a flower. One dab of perfume will do.

Practice with the makeup prior to the Ball. It should be used to enhance your own natural beauty, not to replace your face with a clown's.

Do you want your date up close, or at arms length? Flat dresses will let them get near, puffy ones will keep them at a distance.

Use _complanate_ to make the dress lay flat and _crinitus_ to make it puffy.

Wand movements:

complanante: move your wand in an arc across the front of the skirt

crinitus: make a series of the letter u in cursive in front of the skirt.

Did you snag your pantyhose? Use _efncerentur_ to seal the gap. The wand motion is V.

Do you have great looking shoes that are a pain in the heel? Enchant them with _moUis bombicis_ to make them as soft as cotton. Bounce your wand up and down as you cast.

**Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y**

**Guidelines for Being Polite to Your Date**

1\. Offer your arm.

2\. Ask them to dance.

3\. Keep them entertained.

4\. Get them beverages.

5\. Listen to them.

6\. Compliment them.

7\. Dance frequently.

**Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y**

**General Reminders for the Night of the Ball**

Bathe. Use the prohibere sudore glandulea potion to prevent armpit smell. Brush your teeth.

**Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y**

**Where Not to Snog**

The dance floor.

The halls.

The gardens.

_But if you're going to anyway..._

Cast _termulo aere _to cause the air in your vicinity to shimmer, thus slowing the light bouncing toward and off you. Your image will appear distorted!

Or you could use the spell _hologram_ followed by the word for the item you wish the hologram to mimic. Walls are easiest. Just be aware that though the wall will appear to be there, it isn't. People can walk right through it.

**Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y**

**Bananas and Donuts**

Keep the peel on. Spell: _defensiva operimentum_

Potential results of not using the spell include:

Itchy bananas and donuts.

Gooey bananas and donuts.

Red bananas and donuts.

Lethargy.

Frequent, solo, stall wall inspections as you're surrounded by a putrid scent.

Crazy as a diurnal bat.

Miniature banana nut donuts that cost $$$$$$!

**Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y~Y**

_Advertisement_

**Mood Rings**

Graphic of silver rings with varying colored stones.

Blue- Happy, Content

Emerald-Wants Romance

Yellow- Agitated

Red- Back off

Rings can be purchased by owl order from:

**_Bangles &amp; Bobbles_**

Rings 6 sickles each or 3 for a galleon

Warning: The rings read your hormones, not your thoughts. Please remember to apply thoughts to your actions.

* * *

When was a father figure more of a father figure than when his little girl is going on her first date, or his young son is panicking about his first night out on the town? Snape was the acting father of no less than 70 teens that were anxious over their first. Plus a few that were too young (or dunderheaded) to comprehend the banana and donut portion of The Yule Ball Times.

"Mr. Rathsburg, do not consume that peel."

"But the article said...," the boy quivered into silence at Snape's withering glare.

"Finish that statement and I'll deduct three points from Slytherin."

"^ ^"

Rathsburg's mouth fell open and the banana tumbled from his fingers and onto his lap. He glanced down and snagged the banana, then his, shocked O morphed into an understanding O. Red cheeked, his eyes flicked up to his Professor. "Oh. So, um, it was a metaphor, Sir?"

"Indeed."

"Sir, what were the donuts representing?"

"I'll leave that for you to deduce." Snape continued his trek by the Slytherin table and momentarily froze with a foot in midair as he overheard the ongoing conversation. Between two males.

"Earrings that look like flowers are in right now. You know, yellow daffodils, violet lilacs."

"That seems more like spring fashion. This must be the time of year for holly or spruce designs. What are your thoughts, Emily?"

Emily replied, "Flowers in spring may be acceptable, but for Yule Tide anything other than simple jewels is tacky."

Realizing his students didn't require Draft of Sanity and were simply using a conversation ploy, Snape continued his walk. He pushed through the Great Hall doors and bumped into Ronald. "Weasely! Why do you have that broom?"

"Flying, Sir," Ron responded confusedly as he thought, "What else would you do with a broom?"

"Have you looked out a window? or the roof of the Great Hall?" Snape glowered, darkly, "We are in the midst of a blizzard."

"Professor, Quiditch is never cancelled due to weather. Shouldn't that mean I'm allowed to fly, Sir?"

"There is no scheduled Quiditch match and even if there were you are not a member of the team. So kindly explain why you desire to cause the staff to go out searching for your frozen corpse?"

Ron gulped at the image, but replied, "Sir, I'm supposed to do something I'm good at before asking a girl out to the Ball, so I come off as confident when I ask her."

Snape's eyes rolled. "Perhaps a game of chess would be a better choice."

Ron looked embarrassed for not having thought of that idea. He nodded, "Thank you, Sir." Ron dashed back up the stairs.

Snape continued to the upper classman's potion's laboratory. Part of the reason Snape only accepted O level students beyond fifth year was so he could assign projects and trust the students completing them to not require his constant monitoring. The sixth and seventh year students taking potions were the only students keyed into this lab. Snape's decisiveness with deducting House points and assigning detention forestalled illicit brewing. If they wished to brew potions for use other than assignments they had to list the name of the potion by their name on a chart. They also had to describe how the potion was to be used.

Snape would come in twice a day and check off the potions he approved for brewing. Of late, the list had become extensive. The sheet was coated in a veritas potion that caused students to write only the truth. For privacy purposes, students need only scribe a simple rune after their name to make their lines visible only to Snape and them self.

Josiah Henison

Compulsion Potion

Use: To compel myself on following through on asking Melissa to the ball.

...

Alexi Androff

Elixir of Whisper Magnifier

Use: If I can hear what the girls are always whispering about I'll be able to decide how to entice one of them.

...

Gabrelle Ameros

Breath of Fresh Air Potion- Air born variety

Use: kissing, because kissing someone with bad breath is gross!

...

Tanica Rogers

Mimicry Lotion

Use: Apply to my shoes and to the shoes of someone who knows how to dance so I can copy their moves.

...

The list continued.

Snape marked approved on all of them except for:

Georgina Willard

Libation of Agreeability

Use: To give to Hadrian Ingle to coax him into saying yes to all I ask.

...

Snape shook his head as he wrote rejected across Ms. Willard's request. Though the idea had its merits the loss of free will inevitably resulted in calamity.

After making a pass by each station to check on the progress in each cauldron, Snape made his way to the third through fifth years laboratory. It had limited hours and when open it was constantly monitored by a NEWT level student. Granger and Twittle Dumb and Tweetle Dee were some of the few to make use of the lab or a regular bases. Snape had an ongoing battle with Dumbledore over allowing the Weasley duo to brew in the lab. The most recent of these discussions went thus:

_Snape took a bite of his favorite lasagna and instead got the flavor of rotten eggs. He threw his fork onto his plate and glared at the old man. "Fred and George Weasley are to be band from the students' laboratory. They concocted what they call R.R. or Redolent de Rear. They intentionally made a potion that smells of farts! The blasted smell is burnt into my nostrils. Everything taste like sh..."_

_Steam seemed to emanate from McGonagall, "Finish that word and I'll feign ignorance when a dose of R.R. finds its way into your rooms. You are at the dinner table in front of a room of impressionable youth."_

_Snape felt trapped between incensed and cowed. So he ignored both the desire to give either a flippant reply or a sincere, "Yes, Ma'am." He was spared from responding when Flitwick cut in, "Surely my Ravenclaws would have informed me if the students were allowed to experiment."_

_Snape addressed Flitwick while drilling holes into Albus, "They have been granted special dispensation to brew what they please."_

_"Severus," Dumbledore placated, "It was necessary. Progress blossoms from creativity. Without it society becomes stagnant. No progress is made without failures. It is best that their failures are contained. Preventing them from using the laboratory will not deter those two from experimenting."_

_McGonagall was aghast. "Dumbledore, you can't be serious. You gave those two free reign with potions?!"_

_Dumbledore ran his fingers through his whiskers as he spoke, "Owls soar. Snitches flit. Centaurs star gaze. Those two gentlemen," Dumbledore nodded towards the twins, "investigate and discover. A mind that is open to new possibilities should not be shackled and caged. I would no more blind Firenze than prohibit those two from helping our society advance." Dumbledore took a spoonful of his brownie and ice cream._

_His flabbergasted employees silently debated the pros and cons of working for someone whose marbles had tumbled to the floor and were being batted about the castle by cat paws and who quite obviously felt no desire to retrieve them.  
_

With the Ball on the horizon many fourth and fifth years were finding elixirs worth brewing.

Seventh year, Brian Rhodes' green tie lay loose below his collar. His crossed legs were propped up on an empty table. His feet tapped the air in rhythm with The Lords of Night thrumming from the Wizarding Wireless. Brian's eyes occasionally scanned the five miscreants he was babysitting, but mostly they focused on the magazine clutched in his left hand. Professor Snape strode in. Busted.

Snape scanned the cover of the periodical.

**ATOMIC BREW**

_The Digest of Molecular Potions_

His eyes narrowed, "Interesting article, Mr. Rhodes?"

Brian nodded, "Yes, Professor. It is incredible how the use of moleculars causes potions to be more stable and have a longer shelf life. Do you intend to proposition the Board to obtain some for Hogwarts?"

Snape didn't respond. Instead he accioed parchment and quill. He scratched out a few lines then handed the parchment to Brian.

Brian's brow furrowed as he read.

_Acting Acceptable_

_Transfiguration Outstanding_

_Molecular Potions Dreadful_

_Choice of Deception Troll_

Brain winced. Majorly busted. "Sir?"

"Your mannerisms conveyed truth. The transfigured magazine cover is superb. Your knowledge of the contents of such a magazine is dreadful." Snape swapped from condescending to professorial tones, "The potion ingredients you brew with are composed of molecules. Molecules are composed of atoms. When you brew the molecules reconfigure. Molecular Potions is the study of the molecules that compose ingredients. It allows portioners to devise new potions with fewer trial and errors." Out of the corner of his eye Snape spotted George Weasley sneaking an actual copy of the magazine from a shelf and slipping it into his pocket. Snape ignored the theft. If he had to put up with them in his laboratory, due to Dumbledore disallowing the ban, then the least they could do is learn how to make fewer mistakes. Snape pinned Brian with a glare. "By far your biggest mistake was rendering a falsehood to an expert in the field."

Brain quailed under the look, "Sorry, Sir. I will choose better in the future."

"See that you do." Snape held out his hand, "Now, let us see what drivel you were actually amusing yourself with."

Brian reluctantly handed over the magazine,

Snape silently read the heading of the article, _Ten Runes for Dating_. Then he scanned the suggestions.

Rune: €

Place this rune on your shirt collar, just below your ear. It will allow you to accurately respond with an affirmative or negative to your companion's statements without truly listening to their babble.

Rune: ¥

Place this rune on your intendeds corsage. It will make them slightly chilly, giving you an excuse to cuddle to get them warm.

Snape discontinued reading. He rolled up the magazine, thwacked it against the side of Brian's leg that was still propped on the desk and snatched the impromptu report card and added: _Runes Dreadful._ "You have attended Ancient Runes for four years. Surely you've learned something that may actually work? These haven't even the appearance of an actual rune."

"Sir, I agree that the runes themselves are false, but the uses are sound ideas, as long as they are implemented with different methods."

Snape grunted in agreement then added: _Logical Arguments: Exceeds Expectations  
_

"Mr. Rhodes, it is time you performed your assigned task. Make sure the miscreants aren't making a mess of the laboratory."

"Yes, Sir."

Rhodes wandered the room, sniffing cauldrons and vanishing waste while Professor Snape checked the stocks. Ms. Granger came in with her overloaded school bag and began prepping a station. Snape actually sighed in relief at the normalcy the bookworm represented. Here was at least one teen he could trust not to get wound up over a dance. Severus completed his stint as Ms. Hathaway when he wrote 33 under the purchase column next to frog livers. Then his one vestige of normalcy was ripped from him when he spied the titles on Hermione's precarious stack.

**Compendium of Fashion Witch**

**Hair Brews **by Cillia Hodge

**Wizarding Social Customs: Special Occasion Edition **by Cordillia Tennet

**Twist and Twirl **by Eddy Gambol

Five other inane titles rested on top of those. Snape huffed and left for the sanctuary of his quarters. He had 65 minutes until he needed to do a sweep of the common room. His mind swirled with thoughts that needed to evaporate if he was to relax. Kwai Chang Caine took his position in a leather bound wingedback. The lusting teens twisted their way to the front of his thoughts. An open cupboard door materialized and the _buhawi_ spell formed a tornado like wind that lifted all those with excess hormones coursing through their body, along with all of their mating advice paraphernalia and deposited them in the cupboard. Then a portrait of Prudence the Prude settled itself on the inside of the door and the door banged shut. The last sight Severus saw before it clicked closed was a pair of green eyes that flicked between the desires mimicked in his peers and flashes of fear, trust and retribution.

The djinn of Voldemort coalesced, "What is it you wish? I can make it yours for the simple price of trusting me. Allow me to grant you a wish so that I may prove the value of your loyalty." It was a seductive offer from one who possessed the power to follow through. But Severus had learned, through great physical and emotional anguish that djinns use your wishes to achieve their own goals and will leave yours as a crumpled piece of tinfoil with distorted reflections of your dashed hope. Yet, still their offer entices for you know them capable of achieving what you wish if you can just out maneuver them.

Major Nelson whispered, "_Pagsuso_!" and watched as the djinn of Voldemort was swallowed by his Persian oil lamp. "_Flamma_." A flame came to life and burned the djinn's essence.

Of a sudden, boiling cauldrons and a scattering of dried leaves and animal organs surrounded him. "_Pared desvanecen, oceanus resurgunt._" A wall vanished and the sea lapped in, rising higher with each wave. The current caught hold of the potion ingredients and pulled them into the ocean's depths. The cauldrons floated on the rise and fall until they were rocked to their side and they spilled their contents into the brine. A final ebony metal edge submerged and Snape sighed into the cushions.

One deep breath later his eyes became aware of his true surroundings. His copy of The Hobbit was summoned and he fell into the pages of someone else troubles. A toll pulled him from the trolls' dinner plans. "_Pagina luogo_," marked his location in the tale and, "_Leviosa_," sent it back to its shelf.

The teens left Prudence dangling by one corner as they flooded Snape's senses again as he inspected the actions of his various Slytherins. Available surface were strewn with makeup, nail polish bottles, hair thing-a-ma-gigs, hand mirrors, teen mags and copies of **The Yule Ball Times **(TYBT) . A study group appeared to be practicing the spells listed on TYBT. A seventh year was instructing some of the younger ones on how to apply makeup while another was assessing hairstyling techniques. Music blared from one corner where Ms. Wiggins was teaching dance steps. The theater group was in another corner role playing methods of asking someone out and on how to behave on a date. No one was doing homework.

In the time honored tradition of teachers, Professor Snape caused the lights to flick off and back on gaining the attention of all. "Tidy the room. Homework check in a quarter of an hour. _Tempus numerare quindecim._" A digital countdown clock appeared in mid-air. Students scrambled to gather odds and ends and to right the room. Though some were disappointed to have to stop what they were doing they didn't grumble about the order. Not out of fear, as those in the other Houses would suspect, but because Professor Snape respected that they were teenagers and that their behavior was not out of place. He would not harangue them over it and as long as his directions were followed they would be allowed to continue the next day. They traipsed up and down stairwells collecting their text and assignments.

When the time reached zero the room fell quiet and the wireless was flipped to a classical station. A new timer appeared in the air counting down from sixty minutes. Students read or worked on essays. Designated students from each year checked the assignments of the students in the year below them. Professor Snape wandered the room, scanning essays and requesting spell demonstrations. Near the end of the hour Snape checked in with the homework monitors for each year. Points were awarded and study halls assigned as needed.

The chatter picked up as furniture was guided away from the center of the room. Severus levitated logs to the center of the room and cast, "_Ignis azul y rojo y amarillo._" A blue, red and golden fire blossomed. It would heat the room and those in it without causing damage or spreading. The students gathered and warmed themselves.

A baratone voice begun to sing,

_* "Listen, children, to a story_

_That was written long ago,_

The students' voices slowly joined in with Severus'.

_"... Do it in the name of Slytherin_

_You can justify it in the end."_

A few more verses followed and the ballad end with

_"On the bloody morning after_

_One tin soldier rides away." *_

The final note died out and Severus quietly asked, "What do those lyrics teach us?"

"Some goals aren't worth achieving," was one reply.

Another voice said, "Investigate what it is you are fighting for before you head to battle."

A third voice explained the lesson with a question, "If your means kills all of the people trying to achieve the goal then who is left to celebrate its success and what has really been gained if there is no one left to gain it?"

"Ten points to Slytherin for worthy conclusions. Rest well." Snape left for his chambers while his "children" readied themselves for bed or chatted, read or played card and board games in the common room.

* * *

Despite winning three rounds of chess to increase his confidence, Ron's attempt to ask Fleur on a date had turned out less like Bond and more like Mr. Bean. Harry, wishing to void his friend's utter failure, implemented everything taught to him by Sirius and Snape and applied all the tips he had compiled from magazines and scribed in TYBT.

Harry began by writing and drawing:

Goal: Get a date. Have a good time at the Yule Ball.

Privilege: Ride one of Hagrid's hippogriffs.

Then he thought through the ways the conversation could go and what his response to each would be. Harry also recalled Snape's advice. "You are a wizard. Use magic." So he practiced cheering charms, figuring happy people were more inclined to say yes.

The edges of Harry's assignments were covered in the three con's: confidence, conversation, confirmation. He wrote and re-wrote them on all available spaces and as he dashed each one off he imagined Hon Solo, who exuded confidence, held brief, but memorable conversations and always remembered to confirm his battle plan with his partners, unless there just wasn't time to do so.

But all this preparation was for not. A curly topped, third year Hufflepuff named Sasha approached him in the hall and asked him out. Without giving it a second thought Harry, who had earlier applied a cheering charm to himself, replied, "That'd be brilliant! Meet you in the antechamber outside the Great Hall at 7:40? As a tri-wizard participant we have to lead off the dancing. Do you know how to dance?"

Sasha nodded.

Harry babbled on, "Brill! Mind teaching me?"

Sasha smiled and gave another small nod.

"Excellent! Let's compare schedules and work out a time and place to practice."

* * *

Everywhere that Harry went the girls were sure to go. His own ploys from TYBT, well Sirius' ploys really, were being used against him. People he had never spoken to insisted on dragging him into conversations about Quiditch, rampaging trolls, and defense homework. Then they would not so subtlety ask him to the Ball. He had to tell each one no as he already had a date. The fifth year Ravenclaw looked like she had retribution in mind due to his negative reply.

"If I were you I'd've said yes," Ron stated. "She's attractive."

Harry nodded in her direction, "You should ask her out."

"Me?!" Ron looked flabbergasted.

"Sure, why not?"

"I was pretty solidly turned down by one babe already, Harry."

"So, that means you're only go to ask hags out from now on?"

"..."

"Course not!"

"Well then? She approached me with a conversation about one of the professional Quiditch teams. I know squat. I've only been to the one game. Go get her talking about a match you've been to then ask her to the Ball. Remember, confidence, conversation, confirmation. Tell her you'll pick her up at the Ravenclaw entrance at quarter to 8."

Ron looked worried, "What if she says no?"

"Then she probably doesn't actually like Quiditch. Find someone who does and ask them out."

"Alright, mate. Here it goes." Ron drew in a breath, threw his shoulders back and marched over to chat up a girl.

* * *

Ron's grin, when he met up with Harry and Hermione in the Great Hall for dinner, let Harry know that Ron had succeeded.

* * *

Percy straightened his robes and gave his hair a fifth run through with the comb. Bravery came in many forms. Most recently bravery meant feigning that he'd officially been put in charge. The key is to act like you are in charge.

It was a lesson honed by being a big brother. Percy recalled being 8 and tattling on his brothers for swimming in the pond without permission or supervision. Ron and the twins had been punished. That night a collection of dirt covered worms were squiggling across Percy's sheets when he crawled into bed. A year later when he came across the same situation Ron and the twins began the anticipated teasing about him being a tattle-tail and remind him about the worms. Percy ignored their efforts and took charge. He purposefully strode into the water, grabbed Ron by the ear, hauled him to shore, then landed a smack on Ron's backside. "Ow! You can't do that! I'm telling!" Percy rose an eyebrow and responded, "You're telling Mum you went swimming? That you went without permission or supervision, _again_?" Ron paled. Percy turned to Fred and George who had yet to pick up their jaws. "Out of the water! Both of you!" They swam to shore. Percy delivered one swat to each of them and warned all three that if they sought retribution he _would_ tattle and a single swat would be the least of their worries.

Mr. Crouch had stopped showing up for work. So Percy had covered for him, just like that elf Blinky, or whatever her name was, should have done. "Mr. Crouch? He's in a meeting." "Mr. Crouch? I'm sorry but his schedule is full today." "Mr. Crouch is a little under the weather today. Perhaps I can help?" "Mr. Crouch will be out for a few weeks. He has left me in charge." At that point, Percy stopped making up excuses and simply began taking charge. "The signing of trade agreements now falls under my position." "The Grecian Division of the International Magical Office of Law has instigated legislation regarding the statues of the Greek pantheon. The new law will limit magical rituals performed in front of the statues to scheduled times so the locations can be magically secured before hand. This is to prevent more incidents of muggles arresting and charging fines to our kind for what they call acts of vandalism and lewd behavior, but what we would know as ancient runes, fire casting and," Percy blushed, "De-clothed rituals. These forms of magic are not generally forbidden in the vicinity of muggles as they don't necessarily cause visual magical effects. However these techniques do appear odd to non-magicals so we now must regulate their use in prominent locations. Ms. Catrel, you will need to liaison with the major publications and travel agencies to dispense information regarding this law."

His siblings teased him about his take charge attitude. None of them understood the bravery it took to pretend you have more authority than you actually do.

It left your insides jittery. What if they caught on that you were a fraud? But he had pulled it off, every nerve racking minute of it. He had earned the right to kick up his heels and he intended to enjoy every minute of it.

Percy apparated to the edge of Hogwarts and made his way to the Great Hall. The student population filed in and took their seats. Then with great fanfare the four champions escorted their dates to the high table. Percy urged Harry to sit by him.

"Good evening, Harry. It is good to see you."

"Percy." Harry gave a small nod in greeting.

Then Percy dropped the formal speech and whispered, "Thank goodness you're up here. Making small chat with professors is awkward and I don't really know the other champions. Mr. Crouch is under the weather so I'm here in his place. So, who are you here with?"

"This is Sasha. Sasha this is Percy."

"A pleasure, I'm sure."

Harry returned the question, "Will Penelope be joining you?"

Percy sighed, "She dumped me. Said I was too focused on work. Well it's a big job covering u... ah...all the assignments I must complete."

* * *

Food was ordered and consumed.

* * *

Harry and Sasha waltzed across the floor with the other champions and their companions. Then the less sedate dancing began.

* * *

Percy was a bee without a hive. The adults treated him like a toddler that had just learned to pee in the pot. Lots of congratulations, but no one really caring to hear the details. The students either ignored him or gave him the berth given to a rabid wolverine. Too many of them recalled him taking points and lecturing them. So he stood to the side and became the audience of the Weird Sisters and the gyrating teens. Twenty minutes passed. Something peculiar began to happen. Some of the faces appeared distorted! He rubbed his eyes and looked again. There were definitely distorted faces. Maybe he shouldn't have had wine with dinner. "Percy, just take a walk. Get some air," he mumbled to himself.

So he left the Great Hall. The halls were familiar and so lost was he in his thoughts that he walked through a hologram wall without noticing it was there. He most definitely did notice that he had just knocked an entangled couple to the floor. Percy immediately apologized for making them fall and then made his exit with haste. His feet slowed though when he spotted another wall that didn't belong, and then a third! This was wrong! Dozens of school rules being broken. Impropriety. It wouldn't do. He no longer had the authority to take points or assign detention. He could lecture, but that may draw attention. He was here as a dignitary and it was his duty to handle this in such a way that no bad press was brought on to his office. Perhaps one of the professors could discreetly handle things.

Percy re-entered the Great Hall. Many of the dancing teens still had distorted reflections and Percy finally realized what it truly was, camouflage for snogging. Professor Snape was over by the muggle studies teacher. Percy made his way over. "Professor, there are students," then Percy choked on the rest of his words as his eyes fell on the table before them. Gambling! Professor Burbage was hosting roulette, dice, poker and blackjack. "Oh, Merlin. I'm in a house of ill-repute!"

Snape rolled his eyes. Percy a veritable penguin. Not a gray feather in sight. This needed to be managed. "You were saying?"

"Oh! Yes, Sir. Students are making holographic walls and are using air distortion spells so they can, er, tangle tongues."

'Heaven forbid! Teens acknowledging their hormones at a party! Disgraceful.' The snarky comment was contained in Snape's brain. "I'll see to it. Go splash some water on your face and get yourself spiffed. You're looking a bit rumpled."

Percy looked anxiously down at his rumpled robe that had gained some dust during his earlier tumble to the floor. "Thank you, Professor." Percy headed for the loo.

* * *

Snape needed to let off some steam. There he was, having a perfectly good evening. His plans working out. None of the staff or other delegates complaining and then along comes Precisely-Perfect-Percy. Snape marched out of the castle, pass the fluttering faeries and the giant statue of Father Christmas and into the rose garden. "Confringo!" A bush blasted to bits and two teens screeched and ran for it. "Dillman! 10 points from Ravenclaw! Hastings! 10 from Hufflepuff!"

"Enjoying yourself?"

"What do you want, Karkaroff?"

"The Dark Mark. It grows darker. It burns with greater frequency."

"What of it?"

"Snape, we must make plans to leave England. It will not be safe."

"You are delusional. No place is safe. I prefer to stick to familiar terrain than cower in some hide-a-hole. Confringo!" Another bush blasted.

"Sasha! Wait!" But Sasha had taken off at high speed and Harry was left with his glowering Professor. Why was Snape glowering? Both of his mentors had forbidden him from doing anything beyond snogging, which, duh! He was 14! The frightening image of how Dudley came into existence popped into his head and Harry shuddered. Ewe! No, a good snog was as far as he needed to go. For now. "Sir?"

"Karkaroff we'll talk later. Potter, come with me." After they put some distance between them and the castle Snape turned to Harry. "Percy Weasley has decided to start a crusade against debauchery. I have no desire to spend my evening sussing out every hormonal act." Snape reached into his pocket and pulled out a magical mood ring and a potion. See that he gets the ring and takes the potion."

"What will it do to him, Sir?"

"With any luck, loosen him up."

Harry grinned, then pulled the smile in and saluted, "Mission accepted, Sir." Earlier in the evening Harry had worried that Percy might latch onto him, like a hungry fisherman snagging a squirming haddock. Snape was right, Percy needed a date.

* * *

Harry located the twins waiting for a crack at the roulette table. "Hi, Fred."

"Hi Harry. Hey! How'd you know who was who?"

"You're on the left. George is usually the one on the right."

"..."

"- -"

". ."

Fred and George blinked at each other then traded positions. "You've got Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday and the first half of Sunday."

"Then I'll still know who is who," Harry groused, "The joke will be played on everyone but me. Why don't you flip a coin each day, then it's random."

"Great idea!"

"Now that that's settled,"

"Was there something,"

"You needed, Harry?"

"Gentlemen, I require your expertise."

"You hear that Fred?"

"I did indeed."

Together they proclaimed, "The Dark Lord of Hogwarts requires our help."

"Is there a talking snake involved this time?" asked George.

Harry looked intently at them, "Does Percy count?"

"He does indeed."

"One problem though," Fred explained, "We didn't plan any pranks for tonight."

George continued the explanation to the bewildered looking Harry, "No point in spoiling others fun."

"Nor in getting booted out of a grand party," finished Fred.

"So if we prank him for you,"

Together they said, "Payment is required."

"Could I pay you in the form of clues to some names?" posed Harry.

"Who's names?"

"The Marauders."

Fred and George's jaw's dropped. "You know who made the map?"

Harry grinned like the Cheshire cat. "I do indeed."

"If you know who they are why not tell us outright?" Fred wanted to know.

"It will be more fun to watch you figure it out. A prank for a prank. Are you up for the challenge?"

"We are," the duo chimed. "What do you need done?"

Harry pulled the potion from his pocket. "This needs to get added to the punch bowl."

"What is it?"

"Pleasant Eve." Harry described the potion, "It keeps people from saying stupid stuff that is likely to piss others off."

"Subtle."

"Percy won't drink anything we give him."

"I'll take care of that part," insisted Harry. "I just need to convince him to get a drink. Then he won't suspect we've done anything to it."

* * *

Lupin was on guard duty. No extras had made it onto or into the items on the sustenance table.

Attempt One

George conversed with Professor Lupin. Fred tipped the vial upside-down over the punch bowl. Professor Lupin silently cast a seal covering the opening of the vial.

Attempt Two

George disillusioned the potion vial. Fred and Angelina jitterbugged. While Lupin watched the performance George upended the vial. Lupin silently caused the visible Pleasant Eve to float up and back into its invisible container.

Attempt Seven

Fred mixed the potion with a bottle of Butter Beer. Lee Jordan approached the table. "Hello, Professor Lupin! Mind if I jazz up the punch?" Then Lee poured two bottles of butter beer in with the juice. Lupin smiled. His job was done. The twins potion had made it into the punch bowl, but he wasn't to blame. After all, Dumbledore had given him permission to let Butter Beer get added.

* * *

Fred and George found Harry in a conga line with Sasha. "Mission complete, Hogwarts Dark Lord. Time to pay up."

"Dark Lord?" abjured Sasha.

"It's a joke. I can speak parseltongue so people started thinking I was evil. Fred and George know I'm not, other than the occasional prank. So when I do pull one over on others they like to call me a Dark Lord."

"Enough explaining," said George.

Craving the clues, Fred queried, "Payment time. What will you divulge?"

"I'm related to one by blood, another by law. A third currently lives here and the fourth resided at the Burrow."

The twins stuttered,

"The Bur...row?!"

"Here?!"

"You're related to two of them!"

The twins began scanning the crowd. The person had to be older than the students but younger than Filch. Filch was ancient though, so that didn't eliminate many. Burbage had setup a miniature casino at the ball, so she was a possibility. The Burrow? Maybe Charlie or their Dad. Relatives? Well, if you branched out far enough nearly everyone in the Wizarding World was related. But Harry didn't seem to know much about his magical relations, which left..."Sirius!" Both red heads exclaimed simultaneously.

In short succession they deduced, "Professor Lupin." "Percy's Rat!" and another stuttered exclaim, "Your Dad!"

"You are a junior Marauder!"

Harry gave a flourishing bow, "At your service. Actually, not right at this moment. Right now I'm serving the Unknown Marauder and I need to finish my mission. Can you keep Sasha entertained?"

"Unknown Marauder!?"

"There's a fifth?!"

Then in unison, "Who?"

"If I told they wouldn't be unknown. The fun is in the mystery. Be back in a bit."

* * *

Harry found Percy standing by the Great Hall doors. The man looked torn between casting a sonorous and demanding that all the frivolity stop and sticking his head in the snow and pretending none of it was happening. Harry intended to guide him toward the later. "Hi, Percy. I'm going to get a drink for my date. Why don't you walk with me?"

Percy joined Harry.

"Tonight is good. For once my scar isn't being stared at every moment. Do you know how depressing it is to have people constantly reminding you about your parents murder? People were staring at me earlier, of course, during the dinner and the first dance. Now they're having too much fun to even notice." Harry and Percy ladled drinks and each took a sip. "It's too bad you don't have a date, Percy. You kind of standout being here alone." Harry reached into his pocket and kept it there for a moment, as though he intended to stand that way. Then he affected a surprised expression and pulled out the ring. "Hey, maybe this would help you out!"

Percy frowned, "What is it?"

"It's a mood ring. Almost everyone has them now. It reads your hormone levels and determines if you're happy with your companion. Blue means they're happy, emerald means they want a snog, yellow means they're frustrated and red means they're ready to kick their date where it really hurts. My date and I have had blue all evening, so I don't really need this one. Here you take it." Harry lifted Percy's hand and stuck the ring on his finger. "Now, just look for someone with a yellow or red ring and ask them to dance. I need to get back to my date. Enjoy yourself, Percy."

Percy was left feeling bewildered. Harry Potter had just jabbered on not giving him time to give so much as a grunt in response. Then he'd stuck a mood ring on his finger and told him to dance and oddly, Percy felt no compulsion to argue. The thoughts had been there briefly, then they seemed to have fluttered away.

Percy glanced around. Parvati Patil's leg bounced in agitation. A yellow stone rested on her tapping finger. Zacharias Smith sat near her glaring out at the dance floor. Percy reasoned it out in his head. She was too young for him. But everyone here was too young or too old for him. He wasn't looking for romance, just something to make the night worth attending. She looked like she could use the same. "Ms. Patil, may I have this dance?"

She looked over at Zacharias, "You mind?"

Zacharias shrugged.

Parvati tsked in disgust and then allowed Percy to guide her onto the dance floor. After a few songs he got them each some drinks, which re-instigated Percy's need to be polite. So, when Parvati suggested they get a reading from Madam Trelawney instead of calling her an old fraud he agreed to the venture.

* * *

Trelawney was in her element, using the true techniques of a seer. A dollop of perception, a smidgen of prior knowledge, and just a touch of leglimence. And vagueness. Vagueness is a must in any prediction. Tea leaves were her best game because it gave you several minutes to chat with your customer and with a good dose of imagination you could pretend to have whichever picture you wanted. True seers did exist, and she was one. But there was no controlling the true site. It appeared when it wished.

"There you are dears. Drink up, drink up. Now let's see here. Oh, my! Mr. Weasley I see in your leaves the crup. The two tails means you are living a bit of a double life. The cheerful nature of crups means you have chosen to have a fun evening. Ms. Patil your leprechaun shows you to be having good luck, but leprechaun luck is always fleeting."

Due to Trelawney's predictions their next stop was the casino tables. No real money was being used or won. Everyone got ten chips and could play until they ran out. Percy hit on black 28 on roulette. Pavarti took in five chips on a roll of the dice. They ended with blackjack against Daphne Greengrass and Professor Snape.

* * *

At 11:50 all the extras shut down and everyone made their way back for a final dance.

* * *

Everyone enjoyed their evening. Everyone, including a green beetle that flew to her office and began to write an article titled _An Impossibly Salacious Yule Ball_ by Rita Skeeter.

* * *

The morning after the Yule Ball Harry whopped in joy as he flew through the air on Buckbeak.


	15. New Magics

Arithmancy

"This term we will be taking a foray into one of the many uses of Arithmancy, the art of conjuring." Professor Vector revealed a very precise blueprint of a chair. She pointed her wand at it and recited a series of Latin then whisked her wand away and down. The chair drawing emerged as a real chair! Professor Vector described the necessity of the precise numbers used in the blueprint, then demonstrated by conjuring a chair from a blueprint that had earned a Dreadful. The chair was lopsided with the rear right several inches higher than the left front. "You have three weeks to perfect your blueprint and conjuring. At that point your current chairs will be gone and the only ones you'll be allowed to use are the ones you conjure. Then you'll have two further weeks to learn to conjure the desk. By the end of term you will be able to conjure these items with only the numbers in your head, no blueprints."

"Professor," Harry cautiously approached his teacher, "Could you advise me on conjuring other items?" Harry felt at quite a disadvantage compared to the other competitors. To Hermione's delight, Harry was asking after advanced techniques in several of his courses to close the gap between him and them.

Herbology

"This term we will be working with the carnivorous plants. For two points, who can tell me what carnivorous means? Yes, Ms. Abbot?"

"Carnivorous means meat eater. The plants eat things like flys and frogs."

"Two points to Hufflepuff. The plant we're studying today is the water trap lily. The flower is cup shaped and appears to be filled with water. In reality, it is filled with acid. The hapless animals lean in for a drink and end up getting disolved."

"Ewe!" The girls squealed.

"Gross!" The boys responded with delighted disgust.

"Today you will be harvesting a portion of the acid from each plant. The acid will be used in potions. On Wednesday you will feed the plants."

Neville carefully siphoned the caustic liquid.

Charms

The students were pleasantly surprised to find a serving of grapes on each of their desk when they arrived. They sat munching on the fruit while they chatted with their friends. Then class started. "Over time air eats all things. The stasis charms delay or prevent the damage. There are three categories of stasis charms; those used on food, those used on inanimate objects, such as books and those used on people in the most serious of medical situations."

Hermione tentatively rose her hand, fearing the answer to the question she was compelled to ask, "Professor Flitwick, when were the grapes put in stasis?"

"The students of 1975 put them in stasis. Twenty years from now your children may be the ones sampling the fruit you put in stasis today."

Expressions on the students ranged from darting eyes looking for a waste receptacle to intrigue, to enjoyment of the prank. Harry rolled his one remaining grape between two fingers as he calculated his parents age. They were in this class in 1975. Harry covered the lone grape with the palm of his hand. When they cast the charm today he would reapply it to the tiny purple sphere and take it with him.

Defense Against the Dark Arts

The students were chattering while waiting for class to begin.

Whoosh! A strong, swirling wind blew their homework assignments from their desk.

CRACK! A golden lightning bolt struck the floor and left a black scorch. Expletives were exclaimed as the students jumped away from the resulting thunder.

Grey clouds gathered near the ceiling and golfball size chunks of hail clunked against the desk and floor.

The floor began to shake and crack. Red, bubbling liquid seeped through the fissure.

A giant wave materialized from no where and crashed across the flagstone.

"FINITE INCANTATUM!"

As quickly as it had come all the disastrous effects vanished. Lupin stood in the sudden calm. His lips twitched, "Just a small demonstration of the weather and earth defenses you will be learning this term. Now, if you would, prove to me that you've been paying attention in Charms by setting the room to rights."

The students floated desk back into place and attempted retrieving and drying charms on their scattered homework and repairing charms on school supplies that had been on the floor. Water and fire resistant charms were added to bookbags.

Gregory Goyles' sly smile went unnoticed. Plans whirled through his head. Buy a house. Rent it out. Create storm damage. Collect insurance money. Repeat. Watch his bank account grow. Hey, if he didn't have ambition and cunning he'd be a sappy Hufflepuff. Lots of plans had time to formulate as you feigned stupidity on the sidelines. The only grades that mattered were OWLS and NEWTS. The rest were just for show. As his Granda always said, "A good poker player never shows his hand 'til the money's in the pot, and not even then if they can mange to collect the pot without showing the hand." Goyle's were good at poker.

Potions

Snape stood silent until all eyes were upon him then quitely intoned, "This term you will be brewing potions that are not imbibed. Instead they are applied to the skin or to inanimate objects. These include cleansers, coolants, skin protectants, fertilizers and pesticides. Today you will be brewing anit-bacterial hand sanitizer."

"Sir," one pure-blood asked, "What is bacteria?"

"- -"

"Muggle studies really needs to become mandatory," Snape mentally growsed. Then he face palmed as on the opposite end of the scale a muggleborn fished from their pack a bottle of store bought hand sanitizer and set it in their cauldron as they called out, "Finished!"

History

In honor of our foreign guest we will spend this term learning of the cultures and magics of foreign lands. We begin our journey in west Africa with the Bakongo people. They refer to their departed ancestors as bakulu. As they share tales of their bakulu they craft talismans, releasing magical energy and memories into it as they craft. They keep the talisman with them and are able to call on the bakulu for assistance in times of need."

Harry raised his hand. "Sir, what if you're listening to the tales instead of sharing them?"

Harry received curious looks from some, sympathetic ones from others.

"It is the strength of the emotions during the time of the telling which matter most," explained Professor Stewart.

During spare moments throughout the week Harry crafted his talisman while Sirius talked to him through their mirror "phones" or while sharing a cuppa with Remus. He'd even managed to wheeled a story of Lily from Snape over the de-limbing of spiders, de-limbing being the fee for the story.

Astronomy

"We begin a new topic this term, the summoning of the spirits of the constellations. I caution you to only use this magic in times of great need. The spirits themselves will decide if your cause is just and if you are worthy of their assistance. We will practice the techniques of the riturals, but we will not call on the spirits. As you are Gryffindors we will begin with Aquila, the eagle. Aquila is called on to deliver messages when mischief is needed for the success of a plan. To contact the spirits you place the stones of calling in the shape of the constellation, add a piece of yourself in the middle, then recite the calling."

Hermione suddenly took a new view of the play performed a few months earlier and was determined to research constellation stories and of course drag Harry and Ron along with her. As it turned out they required less cajoling to read narratives than to read expositories. Together they compiled a list of constellation spirits that could be called on and the purpose of each calling. They made copies of the list and turned them in for an extra credit group project for Astronomy, Art and History as they had studied stars, stories and cultures.

Transfiguration

"Some food items contain nutrients your body needs, but may have a flavor that is displeasing. For the next few weeks you will be practicing the transfiguration of one food item into another. Pages 58-70 of your text contains a list of common food transfigurations and their corresponding encantations. To maintain the nutrients of the original food item begin your spell with _nutrate_ while making a small swirl motion with your wand." McGonagall uncovered a tray of what looked like tiny green trees. "Today you will be transfiguring broccoli into cauliflower."

The Arts

Professor Metrobius pulled from his pocket a tiny bookshelf. A whispered spell made it and the books it carried full size. "Each of you will choose a book from the shelf. They are childrens books. Your project this term is to choose a scene from the book and make it into a new art form. You could animate it in clay, paint with movement, carve it in wood or stone, perform it with speech or music. The choice is yours. You may proceed."

The students took books at random from the shelf. Harry some how wound up with:

_Harry Potter and the Midnight Stallion_

_Harry Potter and the Goblins' Lair _

_Harry Potter and the Flute of Justice_

"Seriously? You guys grew up thinking I cheated goblins out of treasure, rescued the mistreated on the back of a winged horses and charmed a flute to make it tame those that need taming? Who wrote this tripe?! S. Trelawney! Please don't tell me that the reason so many people took her class is because of these!" His classmates sported guilty eyes, or defensive ones. "Uhg. I was raised by muggles! When was I supposed to have done all this?!"

"Well, it _is_ written by Trelawney, Harry," Padma Patil defended, "You don't have to have done them yet. You could do them in the future."

Hermione, flipped through _Flute of Justice, _"I hate to admit it, Harry, but she may be right. You _did_ charm a flute to put Fluffy to sleep and the copy-write is 1984. It is possible you'll do all of this."

"Hermione! This one has me flying on the back of a dragon!"


	16. A Ghost, Maurader Tech, and a Date

**A Ghost, Marauder Tech, and a Date**

Disclosure: I own none of the recognizable characters, lyrics (only a few words are referenced) or titles mentioned in this chapter.

* * *

A man rested with a bent knee in front of his master.

"Are things proceeding as planned?"

"They are, Master."

* * *

"*Almost all the bubbles were gone," Myrtle blinked owlishly at Harry.

"Myrtle, have you ever been on a date?"

* * *

_An almost scene..._

"No, Dumbledore. It's not happening."

"But Severus, you brewed the potion yourself. The person Mr. Potter will miss most is you."

Snape's blood boiled. He had to close his eyes and force down his temper before it sizzled through his veins. "That boy will not miss me."

"Are you saying your potion skills are slipping?" Dumbledore frowned concernedly.

Snape's nostrils flared. His eyes seared the old man.

"I apologize Severus. Of course that is not the case. So you will join the others as an underwater captive?"

Severus' shout caused sour lemon candies to twitch, the cockroach clusters to shimmy and the sugar quills to leak their sugary sweetness across Dumbledore's desk. "I will not play Potter's damsel in distress!"

Dumbledore looked worriedly at his candy supply, "No. Perhaps not. I'll endeavor to seek a more willing canidate, shall I?" His supply of Droobles Best Blowing Gum expanded into bubbles, popping his desk drawer open and exploded in a pink mess over the letters he'd been scripting. Dumbeldore's mouth opened in an O of dismay. "Ah, yes. Yes I shall. It was nice of you to stop by. Good evening Severus."

_Almost, because Dumbledore knows not about Snape and Harry's relationship, least not to their knowledge._

* * *

_The day of the Second Task..._

"Ready, Myrtle?"

"Ready, Captain!" Myrtle gave Harry a little salute as Harry flushed the toilet and the ghost girl swished away into the Black Lake.

Harry took off running, out of the stall, through the hall, down the stairs, out the door and down a few more, then across the wide expanse of grass, just making it to the waters edge as the day's competition was being described to the audience. The horn rang, indicating they could begin and Harry yanked a mirror out of his pocket. "Myrtle, are you in place?"

_Twentish years earlier..._

_"Here, take this and go."_

_"A mirror?" James asked Sirius, "What am I supposed to do with a mirror?"_

_"Well you could use it for your perpetual bed-head hair," quipped Remus._

_"Hey, my hair's great!" James retorted._

_"Just take it and go!" insisted Sirius._

_"Fine. Go where? You, best not be pranking me, Sirius."_

_"Jeesh. Do you need me to hold your hand and walk you someplace? Just go!"_

_Grumbling, James snatched the mirror from Sirius's hands and stomped out of the room._

_Five minutes later, leaning on a wall in an empty hall, James heard Sirius's voice coming from the mirror clutched in his hand! He whipped the mirror up to his face, "Sirius?"_

_"Yeah, it's me, mate."_

_"This is way cool!"_

_A few hours after that..._

_"James."_

_James peeked around the edge of the stall, his guard was not in sight._

_"I'm here, Sirius," James called into the mirror._

_"What do they have you doing?"_

_"Ugh, cleaning toilets. You?"_

_"The same," sighed Sirius._

_"Who would have thought McGonagall would get so riled up over a few simple changes with her evening meal? I mean, she still had a vegetable."_

_"Catnip," confirmed Sirius._

_"And a grain," continued James._

_"X's and O's cat crunches."_

_"Dairy."_

_"A lovely saucer of cream," nodded Sirius._

_"And two meats!"_

_Sirius winced, "I think that may have been our flaw, mate."_

_"But she switched into the cat! She loved the meal! she was purring and rubbing on things. I don't get it. Why are we in detention?"_

_"That would be the mouse, mate. Turns out she likes fish, but suddenly discovering a dead mouse on her plate, not so much."_

_"Vanishing the mouse was the first thing she did, after transforming."_

_"Someone's coming!" James stuffed the mirror back in his robe pocket and got back to work scrubbing toilets._

"I'm in place," confirmed Myrtle. Harry had previously secured one of the mirrors to a boulder on the lake bottom.

"Scout the area," directed Harry.

"Aye, aye, Captain."

Delacour, Diggory and Krum were already somewhere in the water. Harry fished a parchment out of his pocket. He pointed his wand at it and encanted, "_Aquae indicium_." Then he lay the water resistant parchment on the lakes surface and shattered a rememberall above it, allowing the potion within to spread across the parchment.

_"Oh, no. It's red!"_

_"Peter, it's always red when your holding it."_

_"Mind your own, Sirius."_

_"Probably your homework," suggested James._

_Peter smiled as the red faded. Then five things happened in quick succession. One, Peter cast a locator spell for his homework. Two, Peter tripped. Three, the homework whisked out from under the bed. Four, the rememberall tumbled from Peters hand. Five the rememberall smashed and the potion within seeped across his homework and the surrounding floor._

_"No! My homework!" screamed Peter as he dashed over to try to rescue his H.o.M. homework._

_"Whoa!" exclaimed James, "You've got to see this!"_

_Sirius and Remus clambered over and all four watched as across the page a map of Hogwarts began to emerge, showing on it the location of every piece of homework in the building! "Wow!" They grinned at each other and almost simultaneous, all four stated, "We need to make one that locates people!"_

Present day...

"_Locus Merpeople. Locus Merpeople's structures. Locus people_." Scrolling across the parchment came: Mervilliage containing Mercentral, Merschool, Mermetallurgy, Merdiner as well other businesses, names of homes and names of merpeople, as well as the names and locations of all people in the lake.

"Captain Harry, Myrtle reporting in."

"Go ahead Myrtle. What'd'cha find?"

"Well, the hunky muscular one?"

Harry nodded, "Krum?"

"Well, he still has hunky muscles, but he morphed his head into a shark's head! He had the nerve to nip at me! But I got him back."

"Oh, how so?"

Myrtle gave a cat that caught the goldfish smile, "I got the giant squid to squirt black ink all around him. He is completely lost! Can't see an inch in front of his eyes."

"Nice job Myrtle. Anything else to report?"

"Not yet, Captain." Then Myrtle kissed the mirror. "That's to remind you of tonight's date." Then she swam, ah, drifted, away.

Harry blushed. Date night with Myrtle was the payment he was making for her assistance with the task. Harry took a moment to run his fingers through his hair and let out a sigh. "Stay on track," his brain chastised. Then he heard the crowd.

"Potter, what are you doing?"

"Potter, take the coat off and jump in!"

"Afraid of a little water Potter?"

"Idiots, all of them," his brain insisted, "As if swimming is the only way to get to the center of a lake. Now, stay on track."

"Yes, brain," Harry mumbled. Harry had on a heavy winter coat, warm woolen pants, and snow boots. He pointed his wand at the sole of each boot in turn and cast, "Statim Firgidus."

_"Are you sure about this, Prongs?"_

_"Positive Moony. With these boots, you can walk on water."_

_Remus' first step was tentative, but when he didn't sink, he took another step, then another. Then, with a grin, he began running across the lake._

_On the shore, Sirius pointed his wand at his friend's boots and gave it a flick, "Finite incantatem."_

_SPLASH! The three boys on shore fell to the ground in hysterical laughter as a soggy and ticked off Remus surfaced._

Harry was 30 steps into the lake, or on as were the case, and hearing much more complimentary remarks from the crowd when his communication mirror activated again.

"You have an update, Myrtle?"

"You know the one that thinks she is so pretty, but actually has sort of a pinched face?"

"Delacour?"

"Yes, well I about spooked her to wits end. Then she had the nerve to say that I was as ugly as the merpeople, and well, you know how vain they are; so I had a word with the merfolk and explained how the blond girl was criticizing their appearance. She may not be too pretty when their pet grindylows are done with her. They're chasing her down now."

Harry felt slightly guilty about sicking Myrtle on his competitors, she seemed to take a great deal of glee out of taking revenge. But he resolved the guilt by reminding himself he was three years younger than them and needed any advantage he could get. "I'm headed to Mereopilus now, Myrtle. Could you do some recon there and let me know what I'll be dealing with?"

"I'm on it Captain!"

Harry didn't bother asking Myrtle to track or sabotage Diggory. For one, he was a Hogwarts champion and for another, Myrtle considered Diggory 'hot' and he's a nice guy and unlikely to tick her off. Actually, the sabotage Myrtle had taken on herself; she seemed to be naturally vindictive. This worried Harry a little; offering to go on a date with her in exchange for help with the task had been an impulse move. If he screwed up that date Myrtle would take revenge.

It felt odd to walk on water, but the enchanted boots kept him afloat. Looking at the map, Harry worked out the hostage for each competitor. For a moment, he worried his lip that he might also need to rescue Hermione and the Delacour girl due to Myrtle preventing his competitors' arrival, but the peace of the walk gave his brain time to think and settle. Hermione would never agree to be part of this without asking a million questions first and would only have accepted if she knew it to be safe. After several minutes of walking the map indicated he was near on top of Ron.

Harry froze the water around the area into which he'd be diving then looked back at the stands, "Crap." He had hoped Mervillage would be far enough from shore that people wouldn't be able to see his suit that well, but as he could still make out some of their features, they'd definitely be able to make out his. Reluctantly, he peeled off his outer layers and laid them on the ice. Sure enough, giggles and guffaws reached his ears from the stand, and when he pulled the hood/mask part over his head they added ribbets and a few muggleborns or half bloods pointed and called out,"Kermit!" Harry groaned. He now had a new nickname.

_Four teenage boys traipsed across the grounds under the starlight._

_"Why are we going out now? I thought we were pulling the prank at 10am?" Wormtail tilted his head in query at his friends._

_Padfoot rolled his eyes. "We can't exactly scare them into thinking we're swamp monsters if they see us entering the lake."_

_"But the lake's cold! I don't want to be in there for hours," Wormtail whined._

_Prongs, lips pursed in frustration, Padfoot's fist clenched and Moony sighed and explained, "We imbued the suits with potions, one for waterproofing and another to ensure the material stays warm."_

_"How are we supposed to breath?"_

_"Did you listen to any of the planning?!" exploded James._

_Wormtail cowered back a little, but looked to Moony again with a raised brow in hopes for a response._

_"The masks have mouth pieces in them we nicked from the infirmary. It's usually used to extract extra oxygen from the air, but we modified it to extract oxygen from the water."_

_"What about..."_

_Sirius turned and took a threatening step towards Peter, "If you ask one more idiotic question that proves both your ears and brain were shut off while we were planning this I swear the next prank we pull will be on you."_

_Wormtail glowered, but subsided._

_The four, near men, but still teenage boys submerged themselves in the lake. They used sticking charms to attach seaweed to their suits. After many hours of boredom under the lake, and curious looks from the lake's inhabitants, it was time._

_Professor Kettleborn stood on the lake shore, "Good morning everyone. Today we will be learning about grindylows. They are..." But that was as far as he got before the first scream. That was followed by the pitter patter of third year feet, then the heavier steps of the "sea monsters" chasing the thirdes across the field._

Harry stood on the ice waiting for Myrtle's next call.

"Captain Harry, Sergeant Myrtle reporting."

"Go ahead, Sergeant."

"The merpeople are guarding the hostages. Each hostage is tied to a statue with a heavy rope. The mersoldiers have spears and tridents. They appear none too happy."

"Great work, Myrtle. See you at 7?"

"Aye, aye Captain. Don't be late for our date."

"I won't. Promise." Harry stashed the mirror in a pocket of the coat. He took a moment, before diving in, to rehearse the lines of the song he was going to attempt to sing to the merpeople. Merfolk were supposed to love music. The Dursley's hadn't been able to prevent him from seeing the film The Little Mermaid as his fifth year elementary teacher had a sub one day and had left the movie for the class to watch. Even if he hadn't seen the film he would have known the songs as the girls constantly sang them that year.

Splash! With an 8 point dive he entered the lake and made his way down to his friend.

Sure enough, the mersoldiers looked grumpy and tried to prevent him from getting to his target. He supposed the judges had expected them to do some underwater fighting or some such. Harry just started in with his song, "*The seaweed is..." Harry continued singing as the mersoldiers and other merfolk froze and listened. He sang as he swum towards Ron. He sung as he severed the rope. He hummed as he hauled his load toward the surface and the merpeople looked on mesmerized as a human took the time to entertain them with a song about their wonderful way of life.

When Cedric finally made it to mervillage he found the opposite of what he had anticipated. Rather than angry, violent inhabitants, he found the selkies twirling each other about and singing, "*...devotin' full time to floatin'..."

Meanwhile...

Harry and Ron surfaced and climbed out onto the ice. Harry peeled off the "Kermit" mask, then pointed his wand at his boots and coat and cried, "_Gimino_!" The clothing duplicated and Harry gave the spare set to Ron. Harry reapplied Statim Firgidus to his boots and also cast the spell on Ron's, then the two walked to shore. The crowd cheered and whistled as the first successful competitor made it back.

Cedric came in second, followed shortly there after by Krum. The merpeople cut the Delacour girl's rope and she floated to the surface, where Hagrid awaited in one of the school's boats. They took a few points off Harry's score for using so many _things _though Harry suspected that they were just put out that he had spent so little time in the water.

* * *

That evening...

Harry prepared the abandoned girls lavratory. From within his pocket he pulled what appeared to be a dollhouse couch, table and table setting. A flick enlarged them. A house-elf delivered his order of pepperoni and ham with pineapple pizza and muggle fizzies from McTacozzia. Then Harry placed the final touch, a projection pensive and a movie screen. The pensive and screen had been a Christmas present from his godfather. Not that Harry had many worthwhile memories to play, but he had one in mind for this evening.

Harry walked over to the third stall on the right and blushed. His first date was going to be with a ghost! Harry didn't count the Ball as a date. That had been a requirement. A formal requirement surrounded by hundreds of others. It had been fun, but it hadn't been a traditional date. This was date night. Pick the girl up at her door. Enjoy a nice meal. Slouch on a couch and enjoy a good film alone with only eachother.

Harry took a slow breath in then knocked on the stall door.

"Harry? Harry!" Myrtle flew out of the loo and embraced the blushing teen boy. Or, well, zoomed through him giving him the chills as she attempted for a hug. "You kept your promise."

"A man of my word, my lady. Would you care to have a seat?" Harry crooked his arm for Myrtle to 'grasp' and led her to the circular table. A wave of Harry's hand lit two candles and dimmed the rest of the room's light.

Myrtle pouted, "I miss doing magic. Sir Nicholas claims the worst part of being a ghost is not being able to eat. I miss food too, but performing magic...sigh." Myrtle flourished her wand through the air. Ineffectual, dull grey sparks drifted to the floor. "Magic is life Harry. So many of us don't depart just to remain near it." Then the ghost smirked, "Of course some of us stick around just to cause a rukus. Today was fun Harry. I haven't had so much fun since Hornby kicked the bucket."

"You did great, Myrtle." Harry lifted a steaming slice of pizza. "Do you trust me?"

"You're in the girls lav and I'm not screeching for Filch. I may not be able to zap you with my wand, but I know how to get revenge if need be. So let's say I trust myself."

That response worried Harry, but thought it better to accept her at her word than challenge her for a more favorable response. He moved the slice towards Myrtles mouth and instructed her to open and bite. Myrtle frowned, but did as requested. Harry gestured with a finger creating a raged edge at the pizza's tip. Then he willed the "bite" of pizza to vanish. Myrtle flushed gray then gave a small smile. "I know it's not the same as really eating, but it was the best way I could think of for us to share a slice."

They chatted small talk while, sacrificing a pizza to nothingness and a filling gullet.

"Myrtle, have you ever seen a movie?"

"Movie?"

Harry leaned back on the couch and held out his arm, "I welcome you to the magic of muggles."

Myrtle floated over and 'sat' by Harry.

One glorious afternoon Dudley had been at a waterpark, Vernon at work, and Petunia on a day trip with Yvonne. Harry had been left alone to wait for the TV repair guy. The repairman had come and gone by 10:00 AM and Harry had the day free to do as he pleased. It pleased him to play video games and have free reign on the TV. Tonight he and Myrtle were going to watch a film the Dursley's would squawk and squeal about had they known Harry viewed it..._Back to the Future._

Harry activated the projection pensive. The two sat entranced as Marty whisked through time.

* * *

Note to readers: Thank you for the reviews on the last few chapters! A few people asked when to expect another chapter that is more Harry/Snape focused. The next chapter surrounds a different main character, but the one after it will be Harry/Snape focused. The next chapter is written as is the third task and all but one or two chapters after that, but I'm still working on one or two chapters for between the second and third task.

-Just incase people ask about the minor wandless magic Harry demonstrated, Harry has Sirius, Lupin and Snape all looking out for him. One of them would have instructed him on how to do this. I may or may not include a scene demonstrating such a lesson.

*borrowed words, if they need to be changed in order to keep the story up please PM me and I'll see what I can do to not use them.


	17. Freezeman

Deductive Thought: Freezeman

Neville was having a rough day. First, he'd overslept and missed breakfast. Then in his rush, he put his shirt on inside out. The Slytherins pointed this out during potions, but Snape refused to let him leave to fix the problem. The teasing made Neville even more nervous than usual and he spilled his potion. The potion was meant to be used as a paint for the inside of a cupboard. It would make the cupboard cold enough to store perishable foods. It seemed his potion was close to accurate despite the nerves. When he'd been ordered out of the room Snape had been glaring down at an ice blue table and splotch on the floor. Since leaving the room Neville had found that any part of him that had touched the potion now had the ability to freeze everything he touched. This was of course discovered in front of half the school during lunch. The banana he picked up gained an icy sheen almost instantly. He was hungry enough to eat it anyway, but Hermione stopped him, insisting that it might be dangerous to do so and that he should go see Madame Pomfrey. As he left the Great Hall he was given a new nickname, Freezeman. Neville's issue, though inconvienent, was not harming him so he'd had to wait while Madame Pomfrey helped several other students. Then wait some more while she devised a solution, which thankfully she did. She also gave him a nutrient potion and a pepper up since he was running on fumes.

While rushing to defense he knocked into someone. They both tumbled down and dropped their things. The other student quickly gathered her things and left. Neville picked up the remaining items on the floor and was surprised when he lifted the wand and gold sparks shot out. On closer inspection, he realized it wasn't his wand, or to be more exact, it wasn't his father's. His father's wand barley tingled in his hand. By the time he'd recovered from his astonishment and looked about the girl was gone. Neville didn't know her name, but she'd likely find him at dinner and they could trade wands then. Now he needed to get to class.

He came in just as substitute Professor Auror Moody was stating, "The incantation is Avada Kedavra. Well, get in here boy! Take a seat."

Neville had no idea what the spell did, but he had taken to reciting over and over the incantations teachers taught the moment he heard them. This he had found was one of the only ways he could ensure he wasn't always the last to succeed. With a different wand in his hand that actually seemed in-tune with his magic, he had a hope that he may actually be the first to cast it successfully! Neville, caught up in his own thoughts, missed Professor Moody saying, "You could all point your wands at me and say the incantation and nothing would happen." All Neville heard was, 'point your wands at me and say the incantation,' and Moody's next word, "Now..." He was so thrilled at the idea of the possibility of success that he put all of his power into the spell and firmly stated, "Avada Kedavra." A green light flew across the spans and Moody was no more.

All heads whipped to Neville and by their flabbergasted expressions he determined that he had done something much, much worse than knock his teacher out. Then there was a scream and a squeal.

"Ahh! His leg is growing!"

"It can't be. He's dead."

Dead? Neville sunk so low in his chair that his back was nearly flat with where the bottom was supposed to go.

"Ewwwee! The eye! It's rolling across the floor."

'He, he's changing!"

Neville sucked in his courage and rose to see what he'd done. Upon seeing the face his countenance turned to rage. "That's Barty Crouch Jounior." Neville's voice was flat. Everyone looked at him and waited for him to continue. "He tortured my parents." Neville looked at Harry. "It was the night after your parents died. People assumed they were safe. We'd come out of hiding. There were wards that let us know they were on the property, but also ones that prevented apparition. My parents had a potion that they kept with them always. It made me invisible and frozen. I was there for the attack, frozen and invisible in a corner. When I'm near dementors I relive it, watching this man," Neville paused and spit on Barty, "And two others use the crusiators curse on them. The curses were thrown simultaneously at times, so that they were hit with two or three crusiators at the same time. They yelled at my parents for hours, demanding to know where I was. When they wouldn't answer Crouch said that if they gave me up quickly my death would be fast. Then he went into detail about how he could make it slow." Neville's voice held a tremble and a tear trailed down his cheek, "They never broke. Crouch and the others crucioed them until their vocal cords were too damaged to work, until they couldn't move." Neville gave the dead body a hefty kick in the side. It brought him a bit of satisfaction, even though Crouch couldn't feel it.

Hermione put her arm about his shoulders.

The rest of the day progressed in a blur. Teachers, aurors and students all spreading rumors and asking questions. The real Moody was rescued. Barty Jr., who turned out to be in a coma, not dead, was identified by his father. Crouch Sr. was arrested for helping his son escape Azkaban and Jr. was destined to return to his cell once he came to from the coma. Confirmation from many students and staff validated Neville's character and story. No one really wanted to press charges anyway after hearing tales of Neville's recounting of witnessing his parents being tortured.

That evening at dinner the blond he'd bumped into earlier in the day plopped down beside him.

"Oh! You'll be wanting your wand back." Neville held the wand out to the petite Ravenclaw.

Her big blue eyes blinked slowly, "This is mine." She held up his father's wand, "That one's yours."

Neville's brow furrowed, "No, see we dropped them in the hall when I ran into you. We picked up the wrong ones."

"You didn't run into me. The gernumbli gnomes told me it was important for me to run into you, and it was. Now I have my wand and you have yours."

"But..." Neville was stumped on what to say.

Luna unfurled a Quibbler and began to read, "It's quite simple really. We've been using the wrong wands. Your father's belongs to me; my mother's belongs to you."

And so began a life time of bewildering dinner time conversations in which Neville was always wrong, or at least bemused and Luna was always right, or or at least too challenging to bother trying to set right as they dated, married, had children and explored the world writing magical encyclopedias on exotic plants and animals.


	18. Two for One

**Part One: Toddlers Need Naps**

_One Full Moon Later..._

A fog settled over Harry's thoughts much as it settled over the DADA classroom.

_The beginning of the lesson..._

Snape snapped directions. "Transfigure one of your possessions into a bowl. Fill it with water. Heat the air above the water, then cool it. Your goal is to create fog. Fog can obscure your movements from your enemies. But it also obscures theirs from you, so choose wisely for when to use it. The amount of heating and cooling you apply to the air will determine whether you produce rain, snow, clouds, mist or fog. Begin."

"Begin!" hissed Ron, "He didn't mention a single incantation!"

"Honestly, Ron. You should already know those spells." Hermione severed a button from her blouse. "Engorgio." The button grew. "Phialam." The button morphed into a bowl. "Agumenti." The bowl filled with water. "Calefacit aerem." The air above the water heated and molecules of water drifted upward. "Aere frigido." A deluge of water splashed across Hermione's desk.

Ron uproariously guffawed.

"Silenco," sibilated Snape, "Two points from Gryffindor."

Ron's shoulders continued to shake with silent laughter despite the point loss.

"Try again, Ms. Granger." Then Snape spoke to the class as a whole, "Alter the power or length of time you apply to each temperature spell. Practice until you reliably create fog."

It rained a lot during the first hour of the double period, and a few snow drifts had begun to build, but as time progressed there were fewer rainstorms and more billowing clouds and wispy fogs.

Harry, having achieved the goal, allowed the fog to hide him as the sound of rain on the far side of the room lulled him into nap-time.

_Water crashed on the shore. It ratta-tat-tatted on the roof. A crashing boom that might be lightning or pounding on a door. Or the pounding of small, fist on the floor as a Dark Lord was in the throws of a tantrum. A blue, plastic sippy cup tumbled from the flailing hands as the child sized monster demanded that his snake venom be delivered in a glass goblet._

_"Master," the Death Eater attempted to explain, "Your hands are small. The last three goblets shattered when you dropped them."_

_"I dropped nothing!" screeched the red-skinned toddler, "It's all your fault! Crusio!"_

_The Death Eater writhed on the floor, screaming in pain._

Harry fell to the floor. His head pulsed with Voldemort's anger. The diadem shook. The ring clattered. The snake reared with a hiss. The cup bumped a few coins, making them duplicate. The wandering spirit, evicted for fear of the lust of compassion shivered. Harry exercised a power that none of those soul pieces knew or understood. The power to conceal and control anger. The soul fragment and his magic waged a war as he writhed in silent pain on the classroom floor, hands clutching where the soul piece had entered.

The class crowded round their fallen classmate.

Hermione and Ron called his name. They knew from prior experience not to touch Harry during nightmares. So they didn't try. Snape, who likewise knew not to touch the teen to wake him, used a spell to move all the clouds in the room to above Harry, then cooled them. Rain poured upon The-Choosen-One. Harry spluttered to a sitting position. With one final shove he squashed the anger. The pain in his scar receded.

"Five points from Gryffindor and detention for sleeping in class."

The bell rung and everyone shuffled out of the room, Hermione trying to convince Harry to go to the Hospital Wing and Ron muttering about, "The greasy git."

_Detention_

"Good evening, Sir."

"Potter." Snape acknowledged Harry's presence with his surname. A plate of tea and biscuits appeared on a table. They each took a mug and sipped. "Describe the vision."

"The Dark Lord forbid it to be shared." Harry smirked, then laughed at Snape's glare. Snape sent a stinging hex Harry's way and Harry got himself under control. Somewhat. He couldn't help but giggle and grin as he related the tale of the Dark Lord's tantrum. "Then after he crucioed the bringer-of-toddler-cups he tried to send another crucio the mans way, but he'd used up so much of his power on the first one that he was forced to crawl across the floor and drink the snake venom from the sippy cup! He looked at the Death Eater and screamed, "You are forbidden to tell anyone about this!" He was so pissed about having to use the plastic cup that he crucioed the guy again."

Snape, who had better control of immature impulses managed to show no merriment in regards to the tale. Leastwise he believed so and had he been aware of the merriment in his own eyes he would have forbidden Potter from sharing _that_ detail with anyone. "You were writhing on the floor. Did you feel the pain of the crucio?"

Harry shook his head, "No sir. I felt Voldemort's anger." Harry traced his scar with his finger. "It felt like it was boiling right through, or stabbing more like. Like a knife trying to cut its way out of my brain. It wanted to attack, to lash out with violent spells."

"It?"

"The anger, Sir. The writhing was due in part to the pain and also in part due to preventing myself from grabbing my wand and attacking. I feel what he feels, Professor Snape, desire to act as he acts. I had to squash that desire."

Snape silently contemplated Harry's words, then he vanished the assemblage back to the kitchens. "The lesson begun by Barty Crouch Jr. is one typically taught in seventh year. You need it now. The imperious curse is used..."

* * *

**Part Two: Multitasking**

Harry, Ron and Hermione were in an empty classroom. Well, empty before they got there.

"I don't like this, Harry."

"Come on, Hermione, lay off."

"I will not, Ronald Bilius Weasley. Harry needs to do well in his classes. The teachers won't appreciate him combining eight essays into one!"

Ron rolled his eyes, "Why not? I think it's a brilliant idea."

Harry mummbled, "Not this again," then interjected, "I could get killed or worse, _expelled_? That was the perception of an eleven year old, whose only source of success was in academia. Are you really still of that mind now?"

Hermione tipped her nose up, prudishly, "I was twelve."

"Not the point, Hermione. I need to train for the tournament. I can't do that and spend all my time at a table in the library."

"I still don't like it," she said, quietly this time.

Harry lined up his textbooks along one wall and a dicta-quill and parchment on a table. Harry pointed his wand at the first book, "Leer page 276."

The book sprang open, shuffled to the correct page, and began reading aloud, in a deep masculin voice, "The butterwort plant, also known as a bog violet, secrets a sweet, sticky liquid from its yellow-green leaves. The smell draws insects which get stuck to the leaf. The leaf curls in and the liquid dissolves the insect. The liquid from this plant is used to clean and preserve milk. This plant grows best in..." the book continued as Harry pulled a pillow from his pocket, un-shrunk it and used gemino to make several duplicates.

The book stopped reading. Harry pointed his wand at the second book, "Leer page 138." History of Magic fluttered to the correct page then began, in an oddly sensual female voice, "Vikings arrived on the western coast..."

Harry set the pillows along one wall, "Accio pillow." Nothing. The pillows didn't even twitch. Hermione and Ron tried too with no results. They continued their attempts.

The viking tale ended and Harry caused Astrological Magics to begin reciting the tales of the constellations. This time the voice was that of an awed eight year old.

"Hermione, the pillows aren't moving."

Hermione nibbled her lip. "Let's try imagining it happeing. Picture the pillow coming to you." They tried repeatedly as they were entertained by the tales. The pillows twitched, but did little more.

"Wind is generated by the varying temperatures of the atmosphere. Hot air lifts upward; cold breezes drift down..." drowned the Defense Against the Dark Arts book.

"Those books are distracting. Can't we turn them off?"

"Hermione, I think I we should get you to the Hospital Wing," stated Harry. "You just rejected a book!"

Hermione gave him a withering look, "There is nothing wrong with the books. How are you supposed to concentrate on casting while they are playing?"

"Try casting while a dragon is attempting to cook you for breakfast. I need to be able to cast despite distractions," Harry explained.

"I think its a grand spell," Ron commented, "Now I can play chess while listening to the books."

Hermione sighed and flicked her wand at the book so it could start the page over. "Wind is generated..."

Ron shrunk the pillows, figuring smaller things might be easier to move. The three of them got to the point where the miniature pillows would move halfway across the room before falling.

Charms for Home and Garden was read by a matronly, no-nonsense voice, "Pest must be dealt with. Not ignored. Begin by determining the needs of the particular vermin..."

The pillows were beginning to zoom properly into their hands and the training broke into a pillow fight, with pillows zooming left, right, up down and all about. With a finite the pillows dropped into a pile and the teens collapsed on them, giggling.

After a few minutes of smiling up at the ceiling Harry sighed, "Time to prevent death, or worse _expulsion_." Harry fake shuddered then vanished the pillows. The three began practicing another spell and in between attempts Harry dictated his essay to the quill.

* * *

Snape wearily looked at the stack of essays. Why did he assign so many assignments? It just created more for him to do. He wrote T for Troll on one essay and then moved on to the next.

_Harry Potter_

_Invaders and vermin cause problems and must be dealt with. In both cases, you need to find out what it is they want. Do they need food? supplies? romantic encounters? What ever the case may be you must endeavor to discover that desire and then either give them what they want or trick them into believing you have filled those needs, much like the bog violet convinces insects that they need to dine at the butterwort restaurant, then the insect discovers that they are actually the menu. The Odór Concoction potion can be used to act as the "gift". Simply add a spritz of the appropriate scent to the potion: apple pie spritz (or other food scents) if your target is hungry; odor of teak if they require items made of wood; sweat drippings from clothing if they are looking for a good night out. Then place the potion where you wish to lead your prey and use the thermal atmosphere spells to create wind that blows the smell in the direction you need the intruders to go. If none of that works and you are desperate, call on the constellation spirits._

The essay continued with a chaotic mix of spell descriptions and brewing steps.

The class was at a low murmur as they chopped, ground and measured potion ingredients. Snape rolled up the essay and then went to stand over Harry. Harry sensed his presence and tensed. Snape tapped the scroll on the desk, "Explain."

"Yes, Professor. I'm a bit short on time, practicing for the tournament and all. So I combined all my essays into one and duplicated it. I'm turning in the same essay to every professor, Sir."

Snape said nothing at first. After an uncomfortable silence he nodded, "The idea has merit, but only if all the professors agree to assign the essays as such and rotate the duty of grading. At the moment what you've done is caused us each to read a longer than average essay. Three points from Gryffindor."

"Yes, Professor Snape" Three points seemed like a small price to pay for only writing one essay rather than multiple. By the end of the week though, he was receiving uncomfortable glares from his classmates as the point loss accumulated with other teachers feeling put upon by the length of the text. They didn't take points from Hermione for her long essays, so why from him? Well, Snape took points from her for it, but that was Snape. In any case, by the following Monday he had scripted two petitions, one for the teachers and one for the students encouraging them to sign if they agreed that it was all for the best if essays were combined. Afrerall, much better results would bare forth if skills were combined. Or at least that was the wording Hermione had used when he convinced her that doing things his way would leave her with more time to learn new things.

* * *

Time, essays, detentions and training passed. All too soon it was time to venture into the unknown of the Third Task, the maze.


	19. Filmtastic Maze

Various characters from films will be mentioned in this chapter. I claim no ownership to anything other than the reviews and the fun of writing.

Challenge: How many movie references can you name from this chapter?

* * *

**The Filmtastic Maze**

The McTacozzia Pizza Card for Wilson Weatherby:

Wilson Weatherby

Speical Effects Supervisor, Movie Magic Inc.

Location: Hollywood, California

Making the magical mundane and the mundane magical.

Specializes in making the muggles he works for believe that things made real through spells and magical creatures were some how created through technical means; then he causes the muggle audience to believe that none of it is mechanical and that magic is real. All the while he hides the reality of the magical world from them all! Well, except for the wizards he hires to play parts in the films, but hey they already know about the magical world so the secret is kept!

* * *

Wilson Weatherby had been hired to design the traps for the maze. He was a rare breed, a Slytherin half-blood raised in the muggle world, with an affinity for muggle films. The thrum of dangerous tones, the flash of a high speed chase, the screams of terrified heroes danced through his head as he designed each confrontation. Hagrid assisted Wearherby in the creation and placement of obstacles and added a few of his own.

* * *

HEROIC HARRY

Harry skittered around a corner and slipped on a twig after being blasted by a skrewt and came face to fur with... a bunny? What was a bunny doing in a maze that was supposed to contain dangerous creatures? Harry smiled and reached out to run his finger across the bunnies head. Crunch! "Oww!" Harry looked bewildered at his bloody finger. The bunny hopped across Harry's prone body, then he heard a terrible wrenching noise. His mouth dropped in shock as the bunny tore open the skrewt from stinger to blaster.

Lesson one: Cute does not equal safe.

Harry trotted down lanes of shrubs and turned 'round corners of greenery, then nearly had his eyebrows singed off by a blast of fire exploding from the ground. Harry looked back, but the passage he entered through was closed. Worriedly, he crept forward, staying on his toes so he could leap to the side if a flame spouted out. Flame resistant spell! Harry suddenly remembered the spell he'd used to turn dragon flames into a warm tingle! Harry cast the spell then walked forward with more confidence. That is until he tumbled backwards into a bush upon seeing a rat that came to nearly his waist! The creature leaped at Harry and the two wrestled. They wobbled back and forth for a moment on Harry's feet, then Harry toppled forward and the monstrous rodent seemed to start sinking into the ground. Harry let it sink and kept himself from following by stretching his arms and legs out to the more sturdy ground surrounding the sinking land. Harry inched his way forward on fingertips and toes and barley missed another blast of fire, which reminded him to renew the fire protection charm and that he could solidify quicksand.

Lesson two: Remember you are a wizard. Use spells.

Harry continued on. Down the next path a cackling green blob swooped down upon him, then through him! Each time the creature passed Harry found himself covered in a progressively thicker layer of green slime. It was gross, but not particularly dangerous. It even felt soothing on some of the cuts and burns he'd earned. With each step the goop dripped to the ground. Harry had vanished the stuff the first few times the spirit had "attacked" him, but the specter returned with such frequency that he decided to live with the goop until he'd progress to the next section of the maze. Fluer ran into him, gaining her own bit of goo. Harry was so covered that Fluer didn't even know it was another contestant under the mess. She cast Patrificus Totalus at him and Harry's back slammed into the ground. Harry stared up at the sky for the next five minutes as he waited for the spell to wear off. The slimy green creature took pleasure in piling a thick layer of green gel on him so he appeared to be no more than a hill with a head.

Lesson three: Stay clean.

The spell wore off and Harry wobbled to his feet, slipping and sliding as he rose. Harry cast a banishing charm at the green menace then vanished all of the neon green glop.

Along the next path Harry saw a fifteen foot deep, 20 foot long indent in the ground, covering the whole distance across from bush to bush. Inside lay thousands of snakes! "Finally. Something pleasant." Harry conversed with the snakes in parseltonuge. "Ladies and Gentleman. I am in need of your assistance."

"You're in need of ours? We're in need of yours."

"We've been slithering on top of each other for hours."

"It's crowded in here!"

"We demanded that the other fellow let us out, but he ignored us."

"It was quite rude of him."

Harry hissed back, "Most humans are dumb. They do not know your language. I know it and will help you escape. But I require your help in return."

"Agreed Snake Speaker," many of them hissed.

"What do you require?" hissed others.

Harry explained his plan then proceeded with it. Harry cast Patrificus Totalist on many of the snakes, so that their bodies were straight lines. Then he had other snakes weave themselves about the straight ones until together they formed a lattice ladder. Harry laid the snake ladder across the pit then crawled across. He stood, then kept his word. Harry conjured a sheet, then made it slide under the pile of snakes. A strong leviosa caused the sheet containing the snakes to rise. Once the sheet was level with the ground Harry cast a spell to peg the sheet in place. The snakes happily slithered in all directions, under branches and through bramble. All but one, which slithered its way up Harry and laced itself about his bicep and tricep.

Lesson four: Exchange favors.

Harry came upon another cute, fuzzy fur-ball. This one looked like a teddy bear with bat ears. The mogwai kept squeaking, "Hungry, thirsty."

Lesson five: Remember lesson one. Cute does not equal safe.

Harry ignored the begging animal and went around the next hedge.

The only way forward seemed to be a phone booth. The door to the booth opened and out stepped a man with a ponytail and goatee. Harry gave a lopsided grin, "Rufus!"

"Hey, kiddo. Ready to go on a trip with me? I could really use your help."

"You bet!"

Harry squished into the booth with Rufus, then lifted the phone and asked for the number.

"555-8213," Rufus stated with a squinted brow.

The two were whisked away to Santa Monica.

"So Harry, you know how at the start of the adventure Ted hides his Dad's keys?"

Harry nodded.

"Well the first time around Ted didn't hide 'em. You did. Now it's time for you to complete that task."

"How come Ted thought he was the one that did it?"

A wand dropped out of Rufus' sleeve and into his palm, then Rufus gave Harry a small wink and a smile.

Harry donned his invisibility cloak, sneaked into Ted's house and hid Ted's dad's keys. A few new buttons pressed on the phone keypad and the phone booth was back in the maze.

Harry waved goodbye to Rufus and hailed, "Party on, Dude."

Lesson six: Know your history. Make sure it leads to a righteous future.

Across a neighboring hedge Harry heard Cedric shout, "Take that, marshmallow man!" Clumps of slightly toasted marshmallow rained from above, plopping on bushes, grass and Harry's shirt. Harry scrapped a glob off his shoulder and smeared it on a piece of emergency chocolate he carried with him in case of dementors. It was pretty good, kind of like the Mars bar he had finally sampled the previous summer.

Lesson seven: Snack breaks help you chill out and energize up.

Or perhaps puke. Harry lost part of his snack when he stumbled upon a hopping torso, spurting blood from its missing arms and legs. Not exactly missing. One arm dangled from a bush, another lay crosswise on the path. The legs were bent at the knee and were eight feet apart. Oddly the armorer suited half-man didn't act like he hurt. On, no. Not at all.

"Stay put you scallywag! Pick up your sword!"

Harry tried to edge around the mad man, but the torso repeatedly jumped in his way. "How can I get pass?" he contemplated. Harry snapped his fingers then cast - to temporarily freeze a path of air above them. Harry hyped in three breathes of air and whispered, "Please say I got this right." He pointed his wand at his shoes and enchanted a spell that flipped his body upside down. He let out a whoosh of air as his feet thudded on the air he had solidified. Harry began to walk upside-down on what appeared to be nothing but sky. It was a bit nerve racking, but less so than floating off into the abyss, which is what he first feared would happen.

Lesson eight: Adjust your surroundings to fit your needs.

**O-O**

O

Harry's mouth fell in an O of shock. Before him, draped in a black cape was Darth Vader. His muscular arms held high above his head grasped the handle of the red, glowing light saber. "Now young padawan you will die." Fluer lay cowering on the ground below him. She was shaking and was covered in a mixture of, blood, guts, and green slime. Her hair was matted with melted marshmallow.

A peaceful song floated in the air and a phoenix dropped out of the sky. Vader and Harry stared at the bird. Fawks' claws opened, releasing the sorting hat into Harry's arms. Harry felt something much heavier than a hat and reached inside and withdrew the sword of Gryffindor! Both men began moving. Harry's sword swiped up to meet Vader's swooping saber. At the moment the two met a wave of magic reverberated from their connection, out to surround the sword, changing it in to a glowing gold as Gryffindor's sword imbibed the power of The Force.

"Leave this place," demanded Harry.

"It is you that should leave."

"We. We both should part."

Unseen due to a mask, Vader rose one brow. "You have blackness in your light, young warrior. Join me. I will teach you to harness that power."

"Likewise, you have light in your darkness," responded Harry. "Perhaps you should be the one joining me."

The two swords continued to press against each other, both forcing the other back and neither particularly moving. "You fool yourself. Power does not lie in light," iterated the basso voice.

"Power lies in both realms, Vader, as does hate. We've both been lead by hate."

Vader pushed his masked face closer to the teen's. Nose to griddle, he sarcastically replied, "Now you wish for us to forgive and be lead by love?"

"No," came Harry's tight, but level voice, "Love is pain. Pain should lead nothing. We should be lead by courage. Do you have the courage to turn off your saber while I hold this blade?"

"And do you posses such courage?" Vader prompted back.

Gold and red pressed firm against each-other for three seconds, then both lost their glow and were lowered.

"Mages lowering swords is a fallacy of bravery as both yet posses powerful weapons." claimed Darth Vader. "The true question is, do either of us posses the courage to stop chasing our hate?"

With those words Vader vanished and Harry shuddered. No. Neither of them had that courage. Not yet in any case.

Harry cast a calming charm on Fleur and she fell into an exhausted sleep. Then he shot red sparks into the air to let someone know to retrieve her.

Lesson nine: Yen and Yang. Accept that you love. Accept that you hate. Let neither consume you.

KRUM'S CONUNDRUM

Victor Krum had wandered down many lanes and had yet to find the dangerous creatures spoken of by the organizers of this event. What was sitting before him was an object that he had desired to try and that his father would whip his ass for touching if he dared to even lay a finger on it, which made it on level with the other dangers he'd faced in this competition. The object was a muggle car. Not just any car, but a Dalorein. Krum peeked over his shoulder as though checking for a lurking parent. Then winced at the embarrassment of being 18 and acting like a two year old sneaking a cookie. To negate the childish reaction he squared his shoulders and climbed into the vehicle. Thinking that a lot of force would be necessary to move such a heavy hunk of metal, he put the pedal to the metal and had soon reached the 88 miles per hour that zapped him back in time. No one from the current time period heard from Krum for two months when he and his car was zapped back to the current year during a lighting storm. He was fabled as the second seeker in history to disappear during a tournament (though they be of a different type) for many a month to then suddenly reappear.

FLUER FLEES

Fluer entered the maze about a minute after Harry and on nearly an identical path, much to her dismay. Skrewt guts sprang into the air and splattered her shirt. One shoe and sock were sucked into quicksand while she spell shoved the giant shrew into searing flames. Then she was set upon by a shimmering, slimy green sea monster and a soaring specter. She froze the creature then ran and smacked into a glass and metal thing. She had no idea what it was, but some old guy said he needed her help and that all she had to do was press a few numbers. She thought it all seemed a bit fishy; she was right. She wound up in a medieval castle, wearing a multi layered frock and being called a righteous babe, and then was kidnapped by two teen boys who also seemed to be in the wrong time period. Her and a group of others ended up at an American mall, water park and ice cream parlor. They were about to insist she play drums in their band when the old guy finally rescued her and delivered her back to the maze only a few minutes after she had originally left. She turned out of sight of the phone booth just as Harry turned into its view. Fluer found a furry little creature that hid from her lumos spell and kept saying,"Thirsty. Hungry" She conjured a bowl and agumentied some water. The spray got a little out of control and some of it landed on the teddy bear like creature. Furball polyps appeared on the little guy. Then the polyps broke off and rolled across the ground, each growing into a bat eared teddy bear. The bears started to eat leaves. Then they weren't bears. They were green, scaly, fanged gremlins! A few licked their lips and growled, "Women." The others started bouncing up and down and they all chased after her. Fluer fled, heart rocketing. Remembering the cute one hiding from light she cast a powerful lumos. The gremlins coward and shielded their eyes while Fluer made her escape. "Neap. We are the knights that say neap!"

"We?" responded Fluer, "There is only one of you."

"Are you challenging us? Raise your sword."

Fluer looked down at her waist. The golden scabbard holding a bastard sword was a souvenir from her trip into the past and California. The type of the sword seemed apropo. She unsheathed and swung, protecting herself from the knights blade that was already cutting the air. The two warriors fought, swords clashing, the sound of metal crashing ringing through the air. Something slithered across Fleur's feet. Snakes! Hundreds of snakes were hissing and sliding across her red trainers she'd picked up at the mall. Out of nowhere, melted marshmallow materialized in her hair, meshing into a mascarpone mess. In her normal state of mind Fluer is quite sane. But this tournament had removed her far from the normal and this knight was not letting up. She hacked off his sword arm, but he kept attacking her, switching the blade to the left arm, so she sliced that off too. Still the knight continued with his taunts, "Is that all you've got? Well take this!" Then he was kicking her and blocking her way. The kicks weren't very strong, but Fluer's nerves were stretched like cold, pulled taffy, ready to snap. Fluer gave a powerful high right to low left slice through both femurs. The torso collapsed to the ground, but was rolling its way to an up position. The snakes were still covering every inch of grass. Fluer transfigured a stick into a flute, charmed it to play Hickory Dickory Dock, and added a household spell used to vacate rodents from homes. Then she floated the musical flute to the west. Mice, shrews, rats and moles scurried out of their holes and followed the music. The snakes followed their buffet and Fluer kicked the knight so he was on his back again.

A black gloved arm reached towards Fleur, "Join me." Fleur's eyes followed the length of the arm up to a polished, gleaming black knights helmet. Fluer stumbled back a step. She heard a weird whooshing sound and a hum like a cicada whirl. "Or die." She felt a powerful magical force thrumming to penetrate her skin. She licked her lips and tasted sweat, blood, marshmallow and slime. She saw a sword like objecting glowing red. Her arms were like rocks; her feet sealed to the grass. Fluer collapsed. She'd had it. She was done.

CEDRIC'S CHOICES

Cedric was hunted by dragonetts (which was the closest creature Willie could find to velociraptors). A woman in a cat suit kept nicking things from him and he'd just toasted a giant marshmallow man. Then a parade of mice and snakes waylaid his progress.

Cedric could see the chalice at the far side of a stone path. He froze at one of the most disturbing sights he'd seen that night. It wasn't disturbing for any mundane reason like violence or gore. Au contrér, it was disturbing due to the lack. There before him, betwixt a sphinx and the stone path, sat Harry Potter. Harry looked like the little boy Fleur once claimed Harry to be. Hardly even twelve though he be nearly fifteen. But a child wasn't what Cedric had seen in Harry's actions. Harry was a Gryffin standing in dragon flame, a Raven learning and applying new knowledge, a Badger sharing information and seeking and offering help to others and even a Snake for without ambition how did he come so far and made it closest before any of his competitors? Through all that Harry had been through he pushed forth, always forward, always moving. The most disturbing site Cedric had seen this night was Harry Potter sitting motionless. For where Harry feared to go danger lurked.

"Harry?"

The bespectacled boy looked up. "The answer is spider. The sphinx let me pass, but I don't know the ruins to match the word spider. If you step on the wrong stone it falls into nothingness and pixies wielding tiny swords fly out at you."

Cedric looked about and for the first time noticed the missing tile that left a gaping hole into a dark never ending hole and 20 pixies sticking out of a bush, each with a disgruntled expression. "Nice tree decorations."

Harry gave a wry smile, "I thought so."

Cedric hesitated then seemed to decide. "Up for some teamwork?"

Harry nodded. Cedric hopped from stone to stone, sometimes barley making the required distance. Cedric worried that some of the jumps would be too far for Harry, but when he checked on him Harry almost seemed to float when needed. Harry battled the fanged ferries when missteps were taken. Casting miniature cyclones that blew the ferries into the bramble, held them in place with a gluing spell, and added the flourish of making them sparkle when he had a moment to spare.

The two teens grinned as they tread from stone to grass. Then the grins faded. Together they inquired, "So, who takes the trophy?" Both sets of eyes rested on the chalice, one picturing the glory of success, the other picturing something else entirely.

Harry closed his eyes, hating what he was about to do. If the fake Moody had been able to be near Harry would soon by a squirming rodent. Harry pointed his wand at the other boys back and whisphered, "Patrificus Totalus." Cedric fell, lock-limbed to the ground. Harry knelt by Cedric's head. "I'm sorry Cedric. My name was put into the goblet for a reason. That reason hasn't been met yet. My fate is not yours. The chalice doesn't lead to victory. It leads to the one that means me harm." Harry sent sparks into the air. "Someone will come to get you." Harry steeled his will and ran for the goblet before he could change his mind. In the last moment as his hand connected to the handle an accromantula climbed over a bush and thrust its stinger into Cedric's chest. In the breadth of a teardrop's graceful release both boys were gone.

* * *

Hi! Reviews make me smile. :)


	20. Voldie's Rough Time

_Author's quests: _

_-entertain you_

_-make you laugh_

_-alter your views_

* * *

_**Preface**_

October 31, 1981

DUMBLEDORE

Dumbledore watched it all go down. One of the measures taken on the Potter home was a special scrying mirror. Until the wards fell it showed nothing, but when they collapsed the mirror that Dumbledore kept in his pocket would ring out and the nothing it previously held would be filled with the images seen from the mirrors within the home. It was by that means that Dumbledore was aware that the death curse had been used on Harry and that Voldemort was no more. Grief struck. Then shock set in as the baby wailed. The mirror tumbled from his fingers, shattering on the floor mere moments before Wormtail and Voldemort's spirit met and schemed.

VOLDEMORT

The wand moved in a zigzag pattern, "Avada Kedavra!"

The man dropped dead.

"Please! Please, no!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

So too did his wife.

"Avada..." But when Voldemort went to speak the death words a third time his own soul rent in two. What there was left of it, in any case.

The half soul, or seventh as it were, floated forth.

"...Kedavra!"

The green light flew at the fragment. The spell, recognizing its master, refused to act properly. Instead of sending the fragment on its way to death, it commatized it and forced it forward, into the skull of a one year old boy.

_End of Preface_

* * *

**Voldie's Rough Time**

Voldemort had not been having a good time of it. It all began on that distasteful holiday, Halloween. It had started out well enough...discovering the location of his target; extinguishing the life of the dark haired man; and eliminating the obnoxious bint that Severus for some reason had a taste for. But it had all tumbled from the turrets from there.

The sniveling little brat screaming for his mum rankled Voldemort to his core. He detested being reminded of the orphanage, of the mewing of those abandoned by useless parents. Voldemort raised his wand and cast the spell that would irretrievably eliminate the only being capable of stopping his permanent reign of power.

Pain. Instantaneous. Severe.

Magically, he had no explanation. Oh, he knew some claimed the AK had rebounded, but if that were the case, where had his body gone? He had certainly cast enough AK's to know that the spell left the body undamaged. Speaking of which, since the only thing that was found left of him was his robe and wand why did they assume he was gone? Shouldn't they have been out combing the streets for someone running about starkers?

Voldemort almost wished he had been running about in his birthday suit that night rather than what had truly happened. After instructing the rat he left. His soul only made it a very short distance before it needed a vessel. The nearest creature he found available to inhabit was a rabbit. He hopped, hopped, hopped across yards and roads, desperately seeking a more respectable creature to indwell when the most horrible thing imaginable happened. A five year old girl picked him up and cuddled him to her chest! Cooing, "Awe, aren't you the cutest bunny. Your fur is so soft! Mum, can I have a pet bunny?" Hopmort felt ready to choke. He vacated the vermin and received a much more satisfactory response from the brat that was now screaming at the top of her lungs upon seeing the smoke monster drifting out of her new "pet".

Voldemort's spirit searched desperately, but was unable to find the creatures he sought. He reluctantly took up residence in a turtle. Shellmort tottered across a field. Voldemort detested swimming, but after the hour and a half walk across the 200 foot field he was desperately hoping that Shellmort was better at swimming than he was at walking. "Ah, much better." He thought to himself as he glided through the water. Crunch! "Ow! What was that? There are things here that eat turtles?!"

Voldemort made a speedy escape from being a Shellmort sandwich and took up his new residence inside a frog. He deeply desired to escape the dining creature and so hopped away with great leaps of several feet. Finally, his traveling was going well. The dew on the grass kept his skin moist and he was making great progress forth. Forth to where, who knew? But after an hour or so Frogmort began to brainstorm an idea, which was quite difficult given the grain of rice sized brain he was using. But that was the whole problem, wasn't it? He couldn't think clearly. A memory had popped into his mind as he hopped; a memory of a forest and a tiara that helped you think. If he could just get to it, maybe he could use it to figure out how to get his body back. He couldn't magically travel, given the state he was in. That left muggle travel. He needed to get to the airport. Goal in mind, "Diadem, diadem, diadem..." he continued to hop and flop. Until the sun hit. He couldn't breath and his skin was so dry it felt ready to crack. Sssssss... "What was that sound? I know that sound?" Sssssbreaksssssfastssss. "Ah!" Hop, hop, hop, can't breath, hop. The slithering snake, slashed out and nabbed the frog from the air. "Oh, Merlin, Merlin no!" Voldemort desperately thought as he saw the inside of the mouth closing around him and then the passage of the snakes throat as he was swallowed. "Must get out, must get out!" Voldemort managed to direct his spirit out of the squirming frog and into...the snake.

Sssyumssss! "Ah!" Voldemort hissed back to himself, "I am not yum!" Voldemort was on the verge of hyperventilating. Occupying the thoughts and memories of the creature that had just eaten what had been him moments before was more than he could take.

Luckily, snakes had very good senses for finding other creatures and Voldemort soon found a rat to possess. Voldemort was quite pleased with his new choice for a home. After all, rats ate almost anything, which gave Voldemort many dining choices; they were clever and small, which would help Voldemort sneak rides to the places he needed to go; and rats bred copiously, so there would be many creatures for him to reside in when it came time to switch bodies. He found that he much preferred the cuisine that could be found in human kitchens to that in trash cans, but the dining experience occasionally left something to be desired. Once, while munching on chocolate marshmallows and crunch chocolate cereal in the box he had torn into, he was attacked by a housewife with a broom. Brooms looked like swinging skyscrapers to the eyes of the tiny rodent. Least to say, he had fled. On another occasion, he was sniffing out some cheese, when to his horror, he found a fellow rat that had been murdered by a metal contraption that Ratmort vaguely recalled seeing as a child in the orphanage. Five year old Tom had been fascinated; 85 year old Ratmort was terrified.

Weeks of traveling passed before finally reaching his destination, the airport. He had decided for this last jag of the journey to occupy a snake. He had not anticipated being picked up by a seven year old boy and stuffed inside a suitcase. The boy gleefully waited for the perfect time to terrify his sister. "Sis, could you grab my tape player from my suitcase?" "Get it yourself." "But the bag is under your seat. Please?" "Fine." Snakemort slithered out of the bag and hissed at the girl. In moments, chaos reigned. The girl clambered up to standing on her seat and then climbing over it as she screamed. A cacophony rose of screams of fear, yells of "Clam down!" and "Sit down." and "Hey, watch it!" and worst of all, crying babies. Drinks spilled, personal items tumbled to the floor, and people in turn either tried to catch or smash Snakemort who was slithering from danger as fast as his tail could flick. A small space was located and he curled up and cowered in dark seclusion until the plane landed.

"Must get to the woods. Must get to the woods." Voldemort transferred himself into a rat as soon as he was able. The snake he had been in had not dealt well with the stress of the flight. Now in Albania and in a rat he continued his trek with one word repeating in his head, "Diadem, diadem, diadem." His trip was going well, until he heard the swoop of wings and felt claws latch into his side. What was it with creatures wanting to eat the animals he possessed? Ratmort looked down and saw the land fall away as the owl rose into the air. Voldemort had to force Ratmort not to panic. Falling from this height was not a good plan. But the moment the owl lighted on a branch Voldie squirmed around, bit the offending claw and scurried to safety...he hoped. He looked around. He was in the forest! He started his chant again, "Diadem, diadem, diadem, dia...dumb, dumb, dumb! Merlin's balls! I moved the diadem to Hogwarts. There is no way I am going to put himself through _that_ horrifying traveling experience a second time."

Life in the woods settled down in a routine for Voldemort. Scavenge for food, hide from predators, move to a new residence, and throw the occasional tantrum. Otherwise, not a lot had changed for Voldemort, except for the lack of children. He may have been living in the casings of vermin and snakes, but he was still a Slytherin with plans and ambitions. He missed being a dad. He had been a good parent. Spending his formative years in an orphanage had taught him, via neglect, what a child needed.

They needed someone to sincerely listen to their woes and to offer reassurance that all would be well in the end. People rarely considered the number of tea parties that must be attended, or drinks shared in a bar, or long into the night woeful reminiscences must be held or listened to in order to win people over to your side. You must listen, pat heads, and stroke egos before they are willing to bow and grovel.

Kids also needed to be brought down a peg or two when they are disrespectful, and punished when they outright screw up. Voldemort praised himself at being very good at disciplining his children.

Children needed to learn to protect themselves. He had taught his children how to stand on their own two feet and fight for what they believed in.

Parents were also supposed to protect their children, and at times deceive them (i.e. special holiday guest). He had his Death Eaters convinced that mudbloods and halfbloods needed to be eradicated because pure bloods were superior. But that was just the deception. Voldemort feared muggles. "Stupid Deputy Dumbledore, sending me back to the orphanage in the midst of The Great War," he'd snarked to himself. Purebloods, with their wards and lives sheltered from the muggle world knew nothing of bombs dropped from the sky and would think it a myth if you explained that non-magicals were capable of collapsing skyscrapers and killing millions with a single explosion. They'd probably ask why anyone would need to scrape they sky! But he had lived through the muggle air raids and had seen the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki on a TV in a store front window. Voldemort experienced the orphanage burst at the seams with the children of dead soldiers and refuge Jews. The sniveling brats told horror stories of the concentration camps.

Muggles were the dangerous ones, and in the past, when the muggles had been aware of magical beings, muggles had been the predators and magicals the prey. All the while White Beard the Flamboyant was inviting more of these dangerous beings into their community! The infestation of those of muggle blood needed to stop, else-wise, the secret of magicals would surely escape and wizards would be the next muggle target and the wizards may not survive the conflict.

So he had done what all good parents do, he taught and praised his children, increased their self-worth, then sent them out with propaganda on their lips about superiority and the need to destroy tainted blood. Voldemort's goals were to rule the magical world and keep it safe from muggles. This meant they needed to eradicate everyone from their community that was not pure, for the un-pure presented a danger. Information is the greatest threat anyone can present. Muggles informed of magicals was a threat Voldemort couldn't abide by. To dispose of them, he had needed to deceive his children into believing themselves superior, for they would have been less supportive of Voldemort's goals if he had said, "We need to take the muggles out before they destroy us," he would have been laughed at and ignored. It is by far easier to influence change by playing on a person's ego and pre-formed beliefs than to rally them behind a cause that is foreign to their experiences and comprehension.

Though not a pure blood, he himself was not a threat, as he had no family and no one at the orphanage knew of the magical world. Snape was not a threat as his muggle father drank himself to death.

Their group had been doing so well at eliminating the muggle threat, then that blasted baby had ruined it all.

Someday, sometime, he would have to obtain a human form, but for now he was a creature of the forest. He was still a Slytherin with ambitions and plans. Being a leader and having followers was the essences of who he was. As he was a parselmouth, being a leader of the forest snakes was the obvious choice. Or so Voldemort thought at first. He was Slytherin to the core and had had it ground into him since he was 11 that snakes were ambitious and cunning. After many months of frustration and failure at organizing The Snake Force he wished for a time devise that would allow him to go back and get Salazar in a stranglehold and demand to know why he had chosen such a lazy creature to represent their house. All the snakes wanted to do was laze in the sun or curl up in their den. About once a week they harnessed enough ambition to seek a meal. And of course they had the natural ambition to avoid becoming owl pelets, but that required little long time planning, just a place to slither away to when danger presented itself. Voldesnake was fuming. There was no cause he could seem to unite the serpents behind.

Voldesnake: If we work together we can destroy the owls that prey on us.

Fellow snakes: We slither. They fly. We can't stop them.

Voldesnake: We can work together to create dens where we can safely hide.

Fellow snakes: We have no paws or claws. The four legged ones make the dens. We just evict them from them.

One snake: Belch! 'scuse me. Just evicted a mole. I have a nice new set of tunnels to explore.

Voldesnake: Let's work together to create traps that will ensnare all the rats we could eat and more! Then we won't need to hunt and we can eat tons of tasty rats!

Fellow snakes: Eeew! More than we can eat! You mean they'd sit there and rot? Why would you want to smell up the place?

One snake: I ate 3 rats in a day once. I was so fat I could barley move. A boar tried to eat me! I went to escape into a mole hole but my belly was so big that by the time I squeezed through the boar had eaten the end of my tail. Do you know horrifying it is to be eaten alive? No. I'll never go through that again.

The group of snakes slithered off, making rude comments about the deranged snake that wanted them to do lots of extra work that was either impossible or would likely lead to their deaths or at least lead to less than ideal living conditions. A trap packed full of rotting dead rats! Disgusting.

Voldemort persisted in his ambition for several months before finally cursing all the idiots who had for the past millennium claimed snakes had ambition. Laziness was the only major ambition of wild snakes. Fed up with the whole species, Voldemort decided to inhabit other species for awhile. Flitting through the sky as a bat was satisfying, but the feel of a fluttering moth in his mouth was distasteful and sleeping upside down gave him a headache. On the other hand, bats were quite social, so when he needed the company of others the caves were a potential hangout.

The years passed. One day Voldemort was taking a spin at being Frogmort. Drifting through the water was quite peaceful. Or at least it had been until the net wrapped around him and he was dropped in an aquarium. An hour later he was croaking in the clear glass structure, looking out at the world from a science classroom. Information was power, so he didn't attempt to escape. Besides, this was his first time he had been around humans in...? Frogmort stamped his foot in frustration. He didn't even know what year it was! For weeks on end he was cared for by the teens and he learned much, including what had potentially happened to his missing body. Oh, he was still just as clueless as to the magical cause, but scientifically he had an idea. That fusion and fission stuff that the sun did and the bombs in Japan did could cause matter to either join or split and resulted in the release of large amounts of energy, which explained both his missing body and the explosion that had destroyed a great deal of the house. But then one day the class had moved on to a new topic: biology. "Tomorrow we will be euthanizing the frogs so you can dissect them. Please take out your diagrams so that you may..."

It was at this point that Frogmort regained his croak which had evaded him at the word euthanize. Voldemort's spirit fled the frog. Students scrambled from chairs, hid under desk, or ran from the room in hysterics as a maniacal black mist took form in the classroom and roared at them, "How dare you threaten to dissect Lord Voldemort! I will destroy you all and all your ken! None can escape the power and destruction that is Lord Voldemort!" Voldemort fled the building. He found poisonous snakes to live in and chased down many of those that had threatened to harm him, biting them and their ken on the ankles.

It rankled him that after these events non of his children (DEs) had come to his rescue. He had grudgingly understood before that they may not know where to locate him, but surely tales of his spirit attacking a school, followed by numerous deaths from poisonous snakes would have been enough to let some of the DEs know where he was and that he could use some help getting a body back. But, no, they ignored the tales and no one came to his rescue.

The evil humans found a way to drive him (as poisonous Snakemort) back to the woods: they poisoned the food supply. Not even he, Voldemort, had done that to humans when he had been dolling out violence. He was more discerning, he picked his victims. Long ago, when he had applied for the defense position he had duplicated the self updating book that told who the witches and wizards were. The families he had the DE kill were muggles with magical children, for they were the danger to his society. He actually punished his children when they were idiotic enough to go outside of his directions and attack muggles unconnected to his cause. His goal was to protect (and control) the magical world, not bring attention and weapons down to bear on it. Muggles had no such restriction on their violence. If even just a small faction pisses off a muggle, the muggles would fire back with full force without care of the damage to the innocent. So the tainting of the food supply, meant to deter a few poisonous snakes took out not only the creatures humans found distasteful, like snakes and rats, but also the cute ones like rabbits and squirrels, and the helpful ones, like the bats and birds. With several predators out of the way, the insects filled the neglected niche and feasted on humans. Which of course led to the humans poisoning the air. Sometime would pass before the humans realized that their actions had tainted their own fruits, vegetables, grains and meats with their need to destroy all potential threats. Voldemort did feel somewhat vindicated that this would also eventually lead to economic issues for the community. Unlike the children at the school he had recently resided in, he paid attention to the lessons, and applied them to life, and had the years of experience needed to understand cause and effect. Many humans seemed disinclined to pay attention to their teachers, and applying the lessons to daily life would sound like a fitting script for a horror film rather than something they should actually _do_.

So, Voldemort retreated to the forest, where he continued to live until... Quirrell. Quirrell, it turned out, was a parselmouth, but one with enough brains to not spout that fact to the paranoid public. Quirrell had been seeking a vampire to turn him, so he would be immortal. Voldemort promised a better immortality, one that allowed a person to roam in day light. Quirrell agreed and took in the spirit. Together, they returned to England.

Originally, Voldemort had intended to work his way into full possession of Quirrell, but that hadn't worked out. His face had somehow ended up on the back of Quirrell's head! Oh, joy of joys, he also reeked of rotting dead rats. He would know. His rat trap, that no snake would help him with so they didn't get to partake, had become too full and all too soon he'd had to find a new den away from rotting rats. So then he and Quirrell had gone on a hat hunting expedition. The ball cap and cowboy ten gallon were too muggle and too rediculus. The top hat to austere. The 1930's Ascot cap was too small. The garlic had a tendency to tumble from the Ghutrah. So finally, they settled on the turban.

Since full possession hadn't worked out, Voldemort reverted to an old idea of his, steal the Philosopher's Stone. Quirrellmort headed into Gringots, imperioed a guard and rode the cart down to the empty bank vault. As punishment for his poor timing, Voldemort forced Quirrell to eat ten jumbo ice creams, resulting in _the worse_ ice cream headache of all time! Well, at least up until that day. Quirrell had many more punishments to surfer through in the coming year.

Then Dumbledore brought the stone to Hogwarts! He was so excited he was tempted to make Quirrell's body jump for joy! Somehow, he had refrained. Perhaps the refraining was due to finding out that he was the last of many teachers to be asked to contribute _protection_ for the rock. Mr. Twinkles had asked him to go hunting for a troll and bring it into the school to add as a protection! "Deranged geezers _should not_ be running schools," he'd grumbled to Quirrell. Then he continued his rant on his trek to and through the Forbidden Forest, "I got that talking spider of Hagrid's out of the castle. That thing was a danger. My snakes darrent harm anyone other than I directed them to, so they were fine. But a troll? He wants me to bring a mindless troll into a building full of pureblood children. I'm tempted to let Rita know so she can do an exposé, get the muggle lover tossed out on his bum. But then the Stone will go who knows where!" Quirrellmort lured a troll from the forest to the castle with cornbeef sandwiches and haggas. Weird diets, trolls.

Being Professor Quirrellmort was NOT fun. He was stuck each day facing that damn brat that kicked him out of his body. Day after day of ice cream headache pain. Pain that he actually felt. When he forced Quirrell to get that kind of headache only Quirrell experienced it. He dearly wanted to crucio the cause of these headaches, but that would reveal him or if nothing else get him removed from the teaching job and tossed in Azkaban.

Being removed from the teaching job sounded like a blessing. Day after day of mewling teens making up absurd excuse for unfinished homework and dunderheaded idiots who needed a spell demonstrated twenty times before they could come remotely close to casting it would get on anyones nerves. After one particularly stressful day, Voldemort forced Quirrell to stand a chair near the door, then climb upon it and gouge out the runes above the door; the ones that years before Voldemort had put there cursing the position to be only a one year position. After actually experiencing being a teacher Voldemort had discovered that the true curse was making it possible for the job to be long term rather than giving them the relief of leaving this horrid job.

Voldemort paced in Quirrell's body one night, reflecting on the homework excuses. They were all absurd... that was until Quirrellmort suffered similar consequences.

~~~~~~~Memories~~~~~~drifted in...~~~~

_"I swear Professor, a cerberus ate my homework!" _

Quirrell let the door creak open. One hand and foot slipped their way through the thin space. Snap! Snarl! Dripping drool. Quirrell snatched his limbs back to safety.

~~~m~~~

_"Professor, I did the assignment on shielding while casting, but a dragon burned it to ash!" _

_"If if if you d-d- did the essay then pre- pre- presumably you would know know know how to to sh- shield yourself."_

_"I did Professor. That's why my homework's burned, but I'm not." _

Voldemort grumbled about the outlandish idea of a dragon being on the grounds. That was until he was out for a pint of unicorn blood and nearly had his turban singed off by Hagrid's "pet" flying on a leash. "You won't tell, will ya, Profess'r," worried Hagrid.

~~~m~~~

Then there was the third year boy that swore on the sanctity of chocolate frogs that his homework had been trampled into the ground by centaur hooves during his detention in the Forbidden Forest. Voldemort knew Quirrell was playing his fearful stuttering part well, but did that truly translate into the teens think he was an idiot? Who would possibly believe the teachers of this school would be stupid enough to assign students detention in the Forbidden Forest?

Then Quirrell discovered the staff truly was that dumb as two 11 year old boys screamed in horror at his blood smeared face and he took a hoof to the bum fro a centaur before he managed to flee.

Why professors would assign detentions that force the students to break rules was beyond him. Even he didn't use rule breaking as a means of punishment for his Death Eaters. What sense would there be in punishing one of his brood by forcing them to break one of his own rules? Perhaps teaching for decades on end generated insanity.

After a trying, stressful year and being constantly hidden in garlic laden cloth, he was going to be free. Free to live. Free to seek his children (thankfully all adults). Free of teens! He truly yearned to be free of teens.

The end of the year finally came and his prize awaited. Then the lying little snot stole his loot and burned his host face off. The wimp Quirrell died instead of strangling the murdering 11 year old, leaving Voldemort bodiless again! Vapormort scowled and fled the castle to once again live in a forest.

This time his trip to the mainland continent was completely unintentional. Vapormort had found a young, hand sized acromantula to reside in as he took time to recover and plot. Then the duplicate red head menaces captured him while he was snacking on flies. Mantulamort was pissed when he came to the realization that the flies had been tainted with potion and he had been placed in a cage! Oh, how he wished he was a teacher again so he could give them fifty detentions each. How dare they trap _him_! Turns out that he was the main event for a prank during a family vacation to a dragon reserve! "Were these parents teachers at the school?" he pondered. "If not, what drove them to the insanity of vacationing at a dragon reserve!" When he had been released to crawl over a dozing Ron it had started a series of minor calamities, screams, toppled chairs, spilled drinks and had ended with a roaring belching flame from a dragon who didn't care to have his sleep disturbed.

And so it was he spent the next several years, swooping, scuttling and slithering through Slavic woods. Then one wispy spring morning, he heard a small call. It started out soft, then proceeded to loft. "Voldemort. VOLDemort. Lord Voldemort! LORD VOLDemort! LORD VOLDEMORT!" Someone was calling him! For a brief moment he imagined himself leaping into the body of a puppy and wagging his tail gratefully that finally someone wanted him! Was calling for HIM! He extinguished that absurd idea in 0.03 seconds, then slithered to the idiot calling his name.

McDermott. Voldisnake felt like slamming his tiny skull into a tree stump. Why of all followers did it have to be the Hufflepuff that found him! Voldiesnake hissed, "Loyal. Hard working. Loyal. Hard working. You can put up with a lack of common sense for loyalty and hardwork." It was an old uderence; one repeated with frequency.

Voldemort's spirit rose into the air and snarled, "Quiet! You fool!"

Voldiespirit set McDermott on the task of brewing a potion to regrow Voldemort's body. The big downfalls of this potion was that he had to regrow from nearly naught to full being at only a slightly faster rate than a normal human. This meant he had to traverse the helpless stages: bottle fed venom, cloth nappies, nap time on an extraordinarily small bed and vocal cords that could do little more than cry! The loyal fool had the nerve to try to rock him to sleep and sing lullabies to him when he got fussy! Voldieinfant had to restrain himself from snatching McDermott's wand and AK-ing him. He deeply desired to kill the man, particularly after the comforting techniques actually worked! But, Voldiebabe reminded himself that he currently needed a caretaker and there was absolutely no way he would allow anymore of his children to see him in this sad state. He'd just have to wait until he was in full form and then either obliviate or kill the man.

Voldiebabe grew into Voldietot and now no longer required nappies, but had to suffer the indignity of setting his bum on a red and blue training pot that sang when he piddled or plunked in it. This had led to many tantrums in the McDermott-Voldemort household. Sadly, the object seemed resistant to spell work and tantrums led to more cooing, rocking and singing from the inane Hufflepuff.

Despite his lack of desire to be seen in the sorry child-like state two other Death Eaters returned to his side and worked diligently to bring him back to his full power and being. One had recently been discovered, but had been knocked into a coma. The plan was to secret, safe.

His vocal cords had developed, but he still struggled to walk long distances; hence he was carried to the site of his father's grave. After he had his real, adult size body he would get to punish McDermott for the lullabies by denying him a new hand for several minutes and perhaps a good crucio or two.

* * *

Did the author succeed at their quest?


	21. Wee Hours & the Punishments That Weren't

**The Wee Hours and the Punishments That Weren't**

_1:43 AM, summer, Snape's house_

Snape noticed a leg bouncing beneath the table. "There's more."

Harry looked up. "They, they were planning something. Planning to kill, gulp, someone."

"What else aren't you telling?"

Shrug.

Snape flicked his wand at a cupboard then levitated a plate to the table, then swished at another cupboard and had a box of biscuits from a local bakery floating toward him. He placed the biscuits on the plate and touched them with a mild heating charm and a smell wafting charm. Snape kept the plate to his side of the table. He lifted a warm, soft, and ever so slightly gooey chocolate chip biscuit to his mouth and savored a bite.

"Tell all and you can share in the biscuits and finish your cocoa. Stay quiet and you'll go straight to bed."

The odd ploy actually pulled a small smile from the teen before his face again paled, "They plan to take me. Use me for something. Kill me. They're waiting until after the World Cup and he's supposed to have someone loyal at Hogwarts that will help him get me. He said many loyal servants would give their right hand to assist him. Said it with an odd tone."

Snape's brow furrowed. He shoved the cookies toward the teen. "Eat. Then we must plot."

1:48

Snape's brain calculated, connected and created as they chewed. Feeling as though his boot was sunk in a boiling cauldron with his foot still within, he spoke. "I know you can tell a lie, but what of maintaining one?"

Harry imagined himself in a saloon, in a cowboy hat and chaps, playing poker. He laid a pair of aces on the table. "Well, there is last year with your detentions that were really lessons and there was the play and everything related to Petigrew. I kept that going pretty well."

Snape gave a slight tip of his head in acknowledgement, but contradicted with three of a kind, "You did well, but even your plan with the play saw in sight an end to the lie and you'd have ten real detentions if you spoke the truth of your side lessons."

Harry looked Snape straight on, "No one in the magical world, other than you, knows that I used to live in a cupboard."

Snape's heart ached at that admission, but countered with, "The cupboard isn't here for them to stumble upon and question. This will be a lie that you will need to live and breath everyday and may never be able to divulge, even when under stress, such as you were when you let that secret slip."

"No one knows I own McTacozzia, Sir."

"True," agreed Snape, "But Ms. Granger is observant and you are a public figure. Someone is likely to determine it is you."

Harry looked at his metaphorical hand, a royal flush and narrowed his eyes at his poker opponent, "What of you, sir? If I show the hand I've kept hidden, will you manage to keep it to yourself when the teachers are gossiping in the lounge or at the dinner table. Will you allow me to maintain my facade?"

"I am not a gossip and I have kept more of your secrets than you are even aware exist." Harry's eyes squinted at that, but he let it pass.

Harry laid his cards on the table, but his heart hammered a bit when he did so, "When I was five I completed a packet of handwriting practice for school. Ms. Wilkens drew a smiley face on the front. I stuck it to the fridge, like Dudley always did with his stuff. I wanted my Aunt and Uncle to see proof that I wasn't stupid like they had always insisted. Dudley didn't do so well. Ms. Wilkens had sent a spare packet home with him along with a note stating that Dudley required more practice and that it was important that he take his time and do well on them. Aunt Petunia ripped my packet from the fridge and yelled at me, '_How dare you steal Dudley's paper and claim it as your own?!'_ She knew she lied, but keeping Dudley superior to me was more important to her. I was forced to do the spare packet. Then I was sent to my cupboard until the following evening."

Harry continued, "It wasn't the only time I was punished for showing up Dudley, but I did my best to try to make it the last. I deceived my teachers. They all saw me as a lazy, mediocre student, capable enough to not require extra attention, but not a star student, worthy of the honor roll. Aunt Petunia said that as such a poor student, I required more practice than her precious Dudikins. She had me do Dudley's homework throughout all of primary school. I had to learn to mimic his chicken scratch. I had to do well on his and poorly on my own. Aunt Petunia orchestrated the con, I did the work, Dudley excelled at laziness and laying claim to the work I did and Uncle Vernon and our teachers were the ones conned. Neither our teachers nor Uncle Vernon ever gave any indication they were aware that I was the one doing both sets of assignments, earning A's and B's for Dudley and lower grades for myself."

"When it started I felt ill treated, misused, angry." Harry looked through Snape with, cold, unseeing eyes, "It was drilled into me that I had no right to such feelings. Outside of school I had no right to even a name. Questions repeated until they were all I dreamed of,

_'Who are you?'_

_'Nobody. Freak, Boy.'_

_'What are you?'_

_'A useless nobody.'_

_'What are you while in the cupboard?'_

_'I don't exist.'_

_'What do you own?'_

_'Nothing.'_

_'What rights do you have?'_

_'I have no rights. I am a freak. I deserve nothing.' _

Snape felt his skin crawl. He knew Petunia. Knew she would ridicule Harry for being magical. He hadn't known Harry was with her, but he would've felt just in leaving him there as payback for the sins of the father. Once he was presented with the actual child whining about his poor treatment Snape had felt just in making Harry's life a tad more tolerable than he'd previously experienced. But now, with the teen confessing in detail how he was raised, Snape wondered if he was trading in his prior and current masters, the Dark Lord and Albus Dumbledore, for a third, with an equal power of deception.

Harry went on, "It hurt, saying those words. It hurt until it didn't anymore, until I accepted that I was a burden that deserved nothing." Harry's eyes were seeing again, blazing into Snape's, "But I wasn't useless. I cleaned. I cooked. I gardened. I ensured that Dudley appeared to do well in school. I wasn't allowed to display pride in accomplishing those task well and I was never thanked for them. But at school I had a name. I existed. I was a student and a con-artist. The deception became a point of pride for me that I was capable of keeping the con going. I'd sit alone in my cupboard at night defying my Aunt and Uncle by ignoring their rule that I was to pretend not to exist. I existed in my head as I replayed my part, my success at deception and planned for how to deceive the next day both on the homework and in other ways."

"Then I came to Hogwarts. Met my first friend on the train. Discovered that he was so intimidated by his predecessors that he found it preferable not to try than try and fail in their eyes. If I proved to be a contender, like his siblings, Ron would have dropped me. Hermione likewise doesn't like to be shown up and she gets a kick out of mothering us and helping us, so I give her a boost by letting her. And its nice to be mothered. No one cared enough to bother before. I've never had anyone that wanted to be impressed by a report card. It has always been the opposite. So the goal of mediocrity continues with the privilege being maintaining friendships and a mothering presence. Harry ended his monologue with, "I have no intention of losing those privileges just for different letters to appear on a piece of paper no one cares to read."

Snape contemplated doing the adult thing and explaining to Mr. Fuss that grades were important and that the Mutt might care to see the report. Then he scratched that. Black hadn't been studious and it was unlikely he'd hassle the boy over a few low grades and if he did then Mr. Fuss would just have to live with his guardian's consequences. The only consequences Black were likely to doll out were in prank form. Snape thought pranks were a worse punishment then his own methods, but again, that was Mr. Fuss' problem, not his. As to himself, he appreciated the boy's Slytherin approach to friendship.

Snape had tried to play both sides as a teen, maintaining a friendship with Lily and garnering relationships in Slytherin. He'd been a cue ball bounced around the table, everyones target and on no ones team. The pressure became overbearing and he'd chosen to conform, to modify his behavior so he could have more allies and fewer enemies.

Snape chose to divulge the plan that had begun to form in his mind, "The Dark Lord excels at achieving goals. Therfore, it is in your best interest that he succeeds on our terms."

"What do you mean?" inquired Harry.

"I mean, we will orchestrate your kidnapping on our terms."

"You want me to get kidnapped?"

Snape inclined his head, "Better it happen at a time and place of our choosing than to catch us unawares."

Harry was puzzled, "But how will we know when and where?"

"I will return to his side. I will be his agent in the school."

"Sir, how can you control when I am kidnapped?"

"There will be an event at the school this year, the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Students from two schools will be visiting the castle this year. One student from each school will compete in a competition. I will enter your name under a fourth school. You will compete as the fourth champion. There will be three contest throughout the year, each of them particularly dangerous. I will convince the Dark Lord that the easiest time to kidnap you will be at the end of the third task. That will give us most of the year to train you for the confrontation and to discover and subvert his plans."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, "Doesn't this fall under the category of, 'Never stupidly put yourself in danger'?"

"It falls under 'As long as you don't do something completely idiotic I won't punish you.' The task will be incredibly dangerous. It is common for contestants to die. But, I have been training you and will be training you throughout this year. It will be your responsibility to devise reasons for me to assign you detentions, so that we may continue your private tutoring."

Harry's foot bounced with his worry, "Sir, I don't exactly _want_ to be kidnapped. Shouldn't we be working on a means of preventing it?"

"You can only control what you know, Potter. If we aren't aware of the when, where, how, etc... Then we won't be able to prevent it."

"Well, if you are rejoining him to discover that information, then can't we just, you know, use that information to stop him."

"Perhaps once. But if his plan fails he will become suspicious and potentially hide his next plan from me. Or if not that plan, he may prevent me from knowing the plan after that, or the one after that. The Dark Lord is persistant. Currently, we know part of his plan. If I am able to influence the rest, we will have the opportunity to discover and thwart his plans."

3:18 AM

Two weary souls climbed into their beds, plots and plans swirling in each head.

* * *

_September_

Severus wrote:

_Master,_

_I wish to welcome your return. I hope this owl will lead me to you._

_Your most loyal,_

_Severus Snape_

...

Severus tied the missive to the leg of a black owl. The owl took flight and Severus followed on a broom. Two hours later the owl swooped through the open window of a large home in a small village. Snape landed on the lawn and waited for his tattoo to burn. When his arm seared he entered the abode.

Snape posed prone before the Dark Lord. "Master, long I've waited your return."

"Long Severus? I was all but under your nose three years ago. You did not assist me. If I recall, you assaulted my host and demanded that I stop."

"Host, Master?"

"That bumbling fool Quirrell. Were you not intelligent enough to suss out his true nature you would not have been my spy."

"Master, no other than you deserves to possess the Sorcerers Stone. I sought only to prevent another from attempting to thieve your glory. You hid yourself well Master. I knew not that you resided in that form."

Voldemort took in the praise, but still questioned the circumstances. "What of the Potter brat? Surely he spouted of tales of a two faced man that crumbled beneath his touch?"

"Master, lies fall from the boys mouth as easily as truth. Tales to bring infamy to his fame. Even had I believed his tales they were told after you had gone. My wish is only to serve you, my Lord."

"Rise Severus. There is much you can assist me with."

* * *

_Late October, "Detention"_

Hermione looked up from her book, "Where are you going, Harry?"

"Detention with Professor Snape."

"Again!?" Ron looked at Harry incredulously, "That man has it out for you."

"Sirius sent him a dung bomb after the last one, but he used Hedwig so Snape thinks I sent it."

_A few minutes later..._

"Are you ready?"

"I believe so, Sir."

"Let's review the plan to be sure. After your name comes out of the Goblet what will you do?"

"I'll be adamant that I didn't put it in, which will be the truth."

"After that?"

"I will demand copies of the contract and claim myself emancipated, Sir."

Snape prickled, "You are too young."

"I am a magnet for evil doers. I'm done with being their punchingbag, Professor. I need to be able to claim my freedom."

"No drinking until you are 17. No apperating until you have your license."

Potter nodded, "Yes, Sir." Then Harry changed the subject before Snape could claim any other restrictions, "After that I'll suggest the use of veritus serum and write up a document saying only you can administer it and question me."

Snape described the next part, "It will be the real potion. You will be forced to answer truthfully. But I will put up barriers so mine will be the only voice you hear. What else happens before I question you?"

Harry sighed, "You will bargain with me. Demand something in return. I will offer to confess to one of my many "crimes". It will be something I've actually done so Hermione won't throw a fuss over my being punished. In return I'll have to suffer through one real detention and numerous fake ones during which you will be training me. I will also be restricted to my dormitory, which though sucks, will hopefully suck less than being hassled by the whole student body. It gives me an excuse to hide from their reactions and time to study away from the crowded common room. The loss of my broom is, in your words, Professor, 'To avoid Barty's idiotic idea that I should attempt to fly circles around a fire breathing, winged beast.' I thought school authorities weren't supposed to tell the champions what the challenges are, Sir?"

"You are not a champion. Yet. We're hardly following any of the other rules. Why should we bother with that one?" Questioned Snape.

"I'm in full agreement with you, Sir."

"Don't be cheeky, Potter. I'll dose you with the serum then I will ask so many questions _that._.."

Harry finished the statement, "... Hopefully no one will notice that the list does not include the questions: Did someone else offer to put your name in? Did an adult put your name in? Do you know who put your name in?"

"What is the ultimate goal Potter?"

"To know when, where and why I am being kidnapped. He will try until he succeeds. So let him succeed at taking me, but not at what he is taking me for." Harry's eyes were contrary to his confident voice, but some of the anxiety in them creeped out when he asked, "Why?"

"Why?" Snape frowned.

"Why does he want me?"

"There is a prophecy. I don't know the whole of it, but the part that he knows indicates that you will vanquish him."

* * *

_October 31, 2:30 AM_

Batman, AKA Severus Snape, locked the doors of the Great Hall. He manifested a hook on the door and hung his robe upon it, leaving him wearing a charcoal gray, Armani, three-piece suit. Bruce Wayne adjusted his suit cuffs and straightened his tie, then got to the job at hand. All the while the famous tune played in his head. He used a potion skillfully contrived by Mr. Fox, AKA Professor Snape, to hoodwink a powerfully magical object, The Goblet of Fire. The name Harry Potter was dropped into the Goblet. Bruce swaggered to the door. The cape was removed from the hook and Bruce Wayne became The Bat sneaking back to his cave.

* * *

_November, Grimauld Place _

"I don't like it, Remus. How did his name get in the cup? Why did he jump at getting emancipated the moment his name popped out? "

"Harry isn't planning on leaving you, Sirius. He's had a rough time of it. You saw his uncle at that water park. Being under someone else control hasn't worked for him."

"So maybe he's thinking it won't work out with me."

"Sirius, Harry loves you."

Sirius made a sound of disbelief. "Remus, he ran away less than a month after moving in with me."

"What?!"

"Told me he was spending a week with a muggle friend."

"Harry never had any muggle friends," Remus responded seriously.

"You'd never guess where he actually went." Sirius lifted his shot of whiskey, hissed as it went down, "He stayed with Snivellus."

"Snape!? You're joking." Remus hadn't noticed any sign of the two getting along. To the contrary, they were antagonistic.

"Serious as my name. Harry called me an abusive bigot."

"He didn't." Remus sat in open mouthed shock.

"Not to my face, that's how he described me to Snape."

"You now this how?"

Sirius cringed, "Spied on 'im with one of the mirrors."

* * *

_January, The Common Room_

Harry stuck the parchment he'd been writing on between two pages of Numerical Relations: Shapes and Figures by Rhombulus Angleton. The edges of the parchment crinkled as he wedged the book between the others in his knapsack.

Hermione frowned at the treatment of Harry's homework but refrained from commenting on it and instead queried, "Harry, where are you going?"

"Detention with Snape."

"Again!? Hermione mimicked Ron's previous comment, "You need to stop hassling that man."

"He hassles me, Hermione."

"Yes, but you don't need to be so Pavlovian in your reactions to him. Walk away instead of reacting."

"Yes, Mum."

Harry entered the Dungeon office, his eye caught the movement of something approaching him at great speed. His wand jumped into his hand and he firmly stated, "Protego." The book went through the shield and smacked him in the chest, before clattering to the floor.

"Protego will protect you from most spells. It will not block physical objects. Tonight you learn how to make walls."

* * *

_Various other "detentions"_

Harry realized that he performed magic prior to knowing about Hogwarts, that he hadn't needed incantations to do so and that he had no wand at that time. Ergo, he could perform magic without wand or words. Afterall, there was that old adage: Which came first, the witch or the wand? Inevetiably, the answer had to be the witch, didn't it? After all, without the witch who would have crafted the wand?

"Professor," Harry tilted his head while looking at Snape, "Could you teach me wandless magic?"

...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...

"Serpentsortia!" The viper slithered across the forest floor. "Sssssseek ssssnakessss. Bring them to me."

...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...

"Potter! If you slam me into the floor once more you'll be scrubbing cauldrons for the rest of the evening!"

"Sorry, Sir. Would you rather we work on spell-work than Judo, Professor?"

...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...d...

Snape handed Harry a slip of paper. "You will use this spell on the Mutt then provide me with a pensive memory of his reaction. Do not cast it in the castle."

"What does it do, Sir?"

"Generates a flea infestation."

"..."

"Someone _made_ a spell that creates a flea infestation?!"

"Fleas, wasp, mosquitos, fireflies, amongst others. Tonight you'll be conjuring a mosquito swarm."

* * *

_Grimauld Place, March_

Remus and Sirius sat enjoying a meal of cheesy potato casserole made by Kreacher. Kreacher was at the castle attending the Friday night House-Elf get together.

"Harry did a fabulous job on the last event."

Sirius smiled at Remus' comment. "He's been talking to me on the mirror at least once a week. I've been telling him tales of our misspent youth. The magical psychologist I've been seen has been helping me piece my brain back together." Sirius chewed a bite of food. "I'm pretty sure Harry isn't planning on leaving anymore."

"Harry isn't leaving you, Sirius. He never was," Remus reassured.

"That has already been disproven. He ran off to Snivelous, remember?"

"He came back," Remus pointed out, "It's normal to get fed up with parents. He just needed a break from you."

"Parent?"

"You're the closet he has to one."

* * *

_The Dungeons_

"The imperio is used to control the actions of another person. It is fought by either will power or by separating yourself from the situation, making your brain believe the event is not happening."

Harry flinched as Uncle Vernon flashed in his memory, the over-weight man demanding that Harry pretend he not exsist.

"I won't use the imperious curse, once I brew it I will have you take a potion that acts essentially the same way. The potion is not illegal as the ministry doesn't know of its existence."

* * *

_A few days later, after the potion was brewed..._

Snape was getting sneaky. He needed to train the brat, but couldn't very well let him get away with napping in _his_ class. Harry drank the imperio potion. Snape explained, "The potion last in the system for eight hours and is activated by a spell. You are going to work on brewing a fever reducer. At some point I am going to activate the potion and you will have to attempt to not do as I say. Your detention will end when you succeed."

"Urgh."

"What was that?"

"Yes, Sir, Professor."

Harry began to gather and measure the ingredients. Two lines into the brewing process he became a superior brewer. By force of the spell. Harry was three steps from finishing the fever reducer when he felt compelled to read The Compendium of Potion Ingredients. Harry attempted to add the radish juice but his arm wouldn't move in the direction of the cauldron and his feet had already turned and were dragging him to a desk facing a wall. Harry sat in front of the book and read. And read. He read and forgot that he was supposed to be trying not to read. After he'd made it from Aardvark ear hairs to Kangaroo dung the compulsion changed and he was thankful to be doing something else. Until he discovered the something else was skunk weed preperation. "Pretend you're not smelling it, pretend you're not smelling it," Harry mumbled to himself as he sliced and diced the smelly plant. Then he thought, "Pretend it's celery. Celery being chopped and added to a bowl of day old bread. Now put down the knife and grab a spoon so you can mix the stuffing. Knife down Harry! You have to get away from this smell! STOP!" The knife clattered to the table. "No more," spoke Harry. "I've finished Professor."

"Pity. I suppose I'll have to suss out some wayward Gryffs to prep the stink puss plant. I was able to silently cast the activation spell as the main power comes from the potion. The real imperius will feel much the same, but you will be more acutely aware of when it takes effect as it is rarely cast silently. So it will likely take you less time to fight it."

"How long was it active in me, Sir?"

"One hour and 43 minutes. Most would be stuck being studious potion assistance for the full eight hours."

Harry snorted, "You must have wetdreams about dosing the student population with it before classes."

Snape swatted Harry on the back of the head, "And with that crude comment you have just earned the privilege of finishing the prep of the skunk plant and prepping the stink puss plant."

Harry groaned.

"What was that?"

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

_Grimauld Place_

Sirius shuffled a deck of cards, "Did you know Harry made an African amulet that is formed in part by memories of his ancestors?"

Remus nodded. "I had tea with him last week. Shared some stories of Lily."

"The third task is next week. Is Dumbledore any closer to figuring out how Harry's name got in the goblet?"

Remus shook his head.

"I don't like not knowing. Who is out to get him? Can you use the pensive to show me the night his name came out of the Goblet?"

The two watched the memory. They came out of the memory. Sirius began to chuckle, then laugh whole hardily.

"What? What did you see?" Remus was befuddled.

"I didn't think Snivellus had it in him."

"Had what? What are you talking about?"

Sirius grinned, "It was a prank, Remus. Snape and Harry pulled one over on everyone. Snape put Harry's name in and Harry knew it was coming. You notice what wasn't in those questions? Do you know who put your name in? Did an adult put your name in? Pretty odd questions to leave out."

"* *"

"But why?" wondered Remus.

Sirius sighed, "That is something we won't know until Harry decides to trust us enough to tell us he's friends with Snivellus."

"I'm surprised you haven't been pranking Snape."

"I sent him a dung bomb last fall; Harry got a detention for it. Harry is his mother's son. James and I had a grand time pranking SnotNose, but he could have had Lily a few years earlier if we had varied our targets a bit more. I've already lost several years with Harry, Remus. He's emancipated. I can't risk driving him away," Sirius voice trailed off, "The way my parents drove me away."

* * *

_The Night Before the Tournament_

Harry found himself in one last "detention".

Snape ran an interrogation of all that Harry was expected to do when he was "taken".

"What is the goal?"

"I'm to be kidnapped on our terms. For planning's sake."

"Sub-goals?"

"Tamper with the potion. Preventing it being made will only cause it to be made another day. So we must tamper with it; make it not function or function in a different than it is supposed to." Then Harry rose and gave an elaborate bow, "Oh Masterful Potioner, King of the Brew, Prince of Manipulation, I bow to your brilliance."

"Well you remember it. Let's review the details." And they did.

Snape's final question was thus, "What are you _Forbidden_ to do?"

"If the potion does not prevent his rebirth and he rises to challenge me, I am forbidden from attacking him directly. He is more powerful than I. My surroundings are my weapons, nature my ally."


	22. Plans Go Awry

Deductive Thought: Plans Go Awry

$$$$Parseltongue$$$$$

Warning: Eeeewwww!

Warning: Cringe

* * *

**Deductive Thought: Plans Go Awry**

_Little Hangleton_

Harry materialized in the sky and tumbled to the ground, the image of the acromantula piercing Cedric with its digestive juices still frozen in his mind. His heart raced and his hands trembled. The reeds rustled behind Harry. Harry locked the image and connected emotions away with the swiftness honed on Surey Elementary's playground. With a touch of his wand to his brow he disappeared from view. The brush of a cloak on the grass grew nearer. Harry had only moments to implement the plan. He dashed to the waiting cauldron, pulled his knife from its shaft and slid the blade across his palm. "Blood of an enemy, willingly given." Harry opened a vial and dumped in Snape's toenail and armpit hair clippings. "Flesh of a false servant." The dust of basilisk rib drifted from Harry's palm. "Bone of ancestor, Slytherin's snake."

Harry scanned the headstones for the one with the gargoyle and spied it. Mere yards away the Death Eater had placed the miniature Dark Lord on the ground and was now casting revealing spells, searching for Harry. The ground was moist with an evening dew. Harry swirled his wand and the water rose and morphed into fog. Harry moved quietly through the fog, un-hit by the many, "Reveleaos." He knelt below and behind the gargoyle. Just as Snape had promissed, the stones of calling were attached to the headstone forming the pattern of the constellation Scorpio, the foe of the greedy. Harry swiped his bloody palm across the T and curved tail. Then in Greek, made his request, "Scorpio, offender of excess, your deeds are known. Your weapon fierce. I bring you a foe, one whose greed knows no bounds." The message was sent. The message was heard. Scorpio's tail flicked down and did its deed. But years would pass and great dangers would be faced before the young warrior would discover a mangled cup in the bowels of Gringots.

McDermott, the Death Eater, countered the fog with heat. The air sizzled with steam for 4 breaths, then vanished, leaving a clear view. Harry swiped his palm across the second set of calling stones, arranged in the triangle ram, Aries, the rescuer of endangered children, but Harry's body was pulled from its location before he could chant the calling. Harry tried and failed to resist McDermott's accio. In quick succession the disillusionment spell was cancelled and Harry was secured with ropes to Tom Riddle Senior's grave.

McDermott pointed his wand at Harry's face, "Langlock." Harry's tongue went up and became stuck on the roof of his mouth. The half child-half snake monstrosity was unwrapped and dropped into the boiling cauldron. The _thing_ flayed in the heat and as its agitation grew Harry felt the foreign rage inside himself, attempting to ice pick its way through his scar. The pain was blinding and only receded after something plopped into the liquid, causing the potion to sparkle like blue diamonds. Harry tried desperately to pretend that the plopping noise hadn't been made by McDermott's severed hand, but Harry knew that it was. It had been the phrase, "Give their right hand," that had led to Snape's suspicions. Suspicions that were confirmed when Snape's offer to brew this potion were rejected due to Voldemort wanting his Potions Master to still be a Potions Master after the potion was brewed.

"Bone of the father..." The scent of old death drifted into Harry's nostrels, making his nose wrinkle in repulse. The basilisk dust and the dust of Tom Riddle Senior mingled.

"Blood of the enemy..."

Harry flinched as the dagger sliced his arm. The forceful action caused blood to ooze down Harry's arm, painting the white skin red. In desperation, Harry mentally repeated, "Take my blood, take it, take it," trying to counter the instinctive desire to not have it taken and used by reminding himself that blood taken by force was part of the Dark Lord's ritual. The two offerings of Harry's blood fought like two magnets, undecided if they should slam together or repel.

From the counterbalances the New Lord was formed. A skeleton with the the diamond shape skull of a snake and the sunken cheek bones and fallen jaw bone of an inbred aristocrat. The femur, tibia, fibula and foot bones of a man, but from the rear of the pelvis extended 86 pairs of rounded, snake ribs. The memories, mind and broken soul of the melted homunculus became the bodies nervous system, giving it thought and sensations. The muscle fostered from McDermott's hand layered itself over the calcium frame. The muscles acted as a sponge, drawing in Harry's blood sacrifices, the taken blood becoming the oxygen carrying red cells; the willingly spilled morphing into the the warrior white. Snape's hair and nails interwove with the disintegrated skin of the sacrificed hand as they fused to the blood red muscles, forming a casing of loyalty and betrayal.

The monster emerged from the basin, with head and tail of snake and limb and chest of man. "$$$Harry Potter,$$$$" sibilated Voldemort, "$$$ I can now$$$$" Voldemort whipped around and glared at his servant, "Why are you humming?"

"Hmmm? Oh, just admiring the effects of this ingenious potion Severus devised." Voldemort momentarily puffed up in pride at having been reborn from the wondorous potion he had concocted, then huffed in frustration upon realizing the Hufflepuff was crediting _Severus_ for a task accomplished by _him_, Lord Voldemort, then looked on in horror as his eyes spied the hand that was rapidly regrowing as a potion rose from a vessel and applied itself to what had been a bleeding stump.

"NO!" Voldemort retrieved his wand from the pile of forgotten robes. He'd teach that man. He was meant to be deformed and in pain for the humiliation Voldemort had suffered as babymort, not healed moments after his sacrifice! The un-genuine nature of the sacrifice caused some of the interweaving to unbind. Voldemort sucked in a hiss of pain as bits of skin sloughed off and his nerves were more closely exposed to the surface. In retaliation he shot a skin boiling curse at McDermott, then smirked with glee as his babysitter screeched, shrieked and writhed. The sleeve of McDermott's robe slid up and Voldemort saw the snake tattoo recoiling as blisters boiled and popped on its surface. Voldemort bellowed, "NO! FINITE!" Voldemort angrily healed his servant, with the intent of maintaining his means of calling his children to view the destruction of Harry Potter. Then he grabbed McDermott's regrown hand, turned it palm up, touched his wand to the center of the palm and drew a curse rune that would randomly make McDermott's hand feel as though it had been slapped with a ruler. As McDermott squeaked with a sudden sting to his palm Voldemort smiled. He could feel the bindings in his skin re-tighten. As long as the man was made to suffer an _actual sacrifice_ Voldemort's skin would sustain its proper thickness and elasticity.

A chilled wind blew, reminding Voldemort that he was yet unclothed. Voldemort summoned the shrunken clothes McDermott had brought for him. Clothes. Real, adult clothes. It had been more than a decade, nearly fifteen years since last he had worn real clothes. As Quirrellemort he had existed only inside the head. This past year as a homunculus snake-child he had been stuffed into onesies by the loyal fool until his vocal cords had developed enough to demand robes. Onesies and diapers. Voldemort shuttered. No more. He put one leg and then the other into the silk boxers then frowned when they wouldn't pull all the way up. He jerked them up again as one with the knowledge that it wasn't going to work, but bewildered by why it wouldn't. He reached back and found a tail. A long snake shaped tail, but with the skin of a man. Voldemort's vocalization of rage, stampeded the air like an amplified lion, jarring those in the nearby village from their peaceful night of telly vegging. He stemmed, just barley, his desire to crucio McDermott into a mush of pain. Instead, a protective bubble appeared around McDermott, sealing him off from Voldemort's vengence. Voldemort, closed his eyes and tried to remind himself that he had allowed Hufflepuffs into his ranks due to their unquestionable loyalty and that if he hurt this particular follower he may be sacrificing the quality of his own skin. Not that skin mattered so much when you bore a snake's tail! "Robe me!"

"Yes, My Lord." McDermott draped the cloth about Voldemort's shoulders.

Voldemort returned to his previous task. "$$$Harry Potter,$$$$" sibilated Voldemort, "$$$ I can now touch you without pain. $$$$" Voldemort leered at Harry and as his hand inched nearer to prove his statement his eyes spied his own reflection in the teenager's glasses. "AAAHHHRRRGGGHH!" Instead of the visage of the handsome sage haired man he had expected he found a bald head, slits instead of a nose, and a head that was nearly heart shaped. He seethed as his finger progressed to the famous scar. Voldemort touched the lightning bolt shape. Harry and Voldemort flinched as both were burned by the connection. Voldemort had been wrong; it still hurt when they touched. "You will die." Voldemort was incensed and his own anger and pain was duplicated in his equal contained within Harry. Harry's own pain was magnified by this intrusion and his head slammed back into the granite he was tied to. Voldemort demanded access to McDermott's arm and pressed his wand to the Dark Mark.

* * *

Lucius grabbed his arm then looked at his wife. "I must go."

"Lucius..." Narcissa looked at him pleadingly.

"I must." Then he was gone.

Death Eaters appeared, one by one, forming a half circle.

"Welcome," Voldemort strolled amongst his followers, punishing some, demeaning others.

The DE's were grateful for their mask for they hid many thoughts:

...^-^...

"What the hell happened to his face!?"

...?,?...

"The voice is right, but is that really him? He got ugly."

..._ _...

"Crap. I thought he was gone. Oh, joy! Back to groveling."

!..!

McDermott squeaked as it felt like his hand had been smacked again.

..~ ~..

"Why should I be following a guy who was taken out by a baby? Oh, yeah, he'll torture and kill me if I don't."

o.,.o

"Finally, cover for my hobbies! I hope he sends us on a raid tonight!"

Voldemort approached Harry and swiveled to face his followers, "I have brought you here tonight, on the night of my rebirth, so that you may witness the demise of Harry Potter. What say you, Harry, to Lord Voldemort?"

Harry was silent. What else could he be? His tongue was still glued to the roof of his mouth.

"Sir?" McDermott, quietly whispered, trying to get his boss' attention to tell him about the langlock. Lucius kicked the man in the shin.

"Nothing? You have nothing to say to He-Who-Murdered your parents?"

Green flashes and his mother's voice flashed to the fore thought of Harry's thoughts.

"Sir?" McDermott tried again. Lucius stomped on the man's foot. McDermott gave a small squeak, this time from the foot stomp; Voldemort ignored the noise, figuring it was the ruler curse.

Voldemort vanished the ropes holding Harry to the stone. Harry crashed to his knees. "Let's see what you make of me now that you have a wand."

McDermott, giving up on getting the boss man to notice him, lifted his wand and stated, "Finite Incatatum," freeing Harry's tongue with a purple light.

Voldemort swung around, "Who did that? None of you are to cast spells."

"My Lord," McDermott bowed his head, "The child's tongue was langlocked. I desired only for you to prove your worth, which would not be done if the boy was as speech impaired as he'd been at one year of age."

Voldemort was red with embarrassment and anger. McDermott had just made it look like he had been cheating and was criticizing him, making it seem as thoug he was incapable of killing a baby! His instinct to take revenge on the man was curtailed by the protective bubble he himself had enveloped the man in. Voldemort pointed his wand behind him, thinking the wand was pointed at Harry, and yelled, "Reducto!"

But Harry hadn't stood around waiting while Voldemort conferred with his associate. The blast hit a dirt wall. Moist soil sprayed everywhere. Malfoy cringed as bits landed in his hair. The Dark Lord snarled as some of it was spit from his mouth. He scanned for the child and instead saw grave stones expanding in height and width. Three, then four, five, six...

Harry hid behind one of the grown stones and pointed his wand at others and whispered, "Engorgio!" The purpose of this was to create hiding places and shields.

Voldemort countered with reduceo's. Their spells and counter spells resulted in a bizarre display of elevator like movement of the stones, reminding Harry of keys on a piano pressed and released as music drifted out. In fact..."Depremo." A harsh wind began to blow through the moving stones, the varying heights manifesting odd tones.

Voldemort found the sounds disconcerting and stopped playing up-n-down by giving one forceful down all the headstones dropped below the level of the grass and Harry lost his cover. Voldemort smirked, "Only those who fear their opponent run and hide, Harry Potter."

"That explains it then. Good to know you fear me enough to rabbit away for over a decade," retorted Harry.

The Death Eaters gasped.

Snakeman stomped his foot like the child he'd recently been. "I'll show you rabbiting. Imperio. Hop little rabbit, hop away."

Harry felt compelled to get on all fours and hop like a rabbit playing a game of Farmer and the Dell, but he fought the compulsion.

Jaws dropped under mask. The excuse they had used to stay out of prison had just been discounted by a fourteen year old!

Voldemort tried again, "I hear you're best farther from the ground. Imperio! Squirrel up the tree, rodent."

Harry had to resist harder against this second attack, he did so by focusing on the pain in his scar that reverberated with Voldemort's anger. When Voldemort lowered his wand Harry took the reprieve to cause chaos. Green leaves ripped from stems and swirled through the air. Tree branches creaked and cracked and shattered on the ground. One branch knocked Crabb across the noggin. "_Hymneoptera swarm. Siphonaptera_" A swarm of wasp flew from his wand toward the Death Eaters, followed closely by a low to the ground black cloud of hopping fleas. The formerly stoic men were dodging, swatting and itching. Harry took the moment, while Voldemort admired Harry's handiwork, to whisper to the snake guarding his arm (the opposite one of what was cut), "$$$ Your name is now Hadrian. Seek help. Bring more snakes. Tell them to obey no human. They obey only you. You obey only me. Slither over the masked ones. Scare them. Now go. $$$"

Bats came. Not due to magic. Due to the delicious sound of fluttering food.

A few of the DE's had apparated away rather than stay to be stung or smacked with tree branches. They, of course, would be crusioed later, because bravery is such a Slytherin trait. Wait, what? The ones that left decided that it really sucked that they were likely to be punished for not being more Gryffindor. There leader was odd like that sometimes.

Others used spells to defend themselves. A few tried to mindlessly obey the no spells command and were rapidly gaining red, stinging blisters from the wasp attacks and red itchy bumps and patches from the fleas. "Eep!" McDermott reacted to his once again stinging palm.

Voldemort was mad. Things were not going to plan. Voldemort _liked_ plans. The Sniviling snot nosed brat was stealing his audience! Voldemort moved his arm in a giant arc and a dome formed around Harry and Voldemort, effectively stopping Harry from attacking his followers. Voldemort spoke to his loyal children, the ones that had not fled, but first briefly thought, "Eek! Not more Hufflepuffs. I'll burn that stupid hat if it mis-sorted them into Slytherin." Then yelled, "Kill the wasp and fleas. Then stand tall and watch Harry Potter die." Meanwhile, Harry had summoned the ground water. Voldemort turned to face his nemisis, "The proper form for a duel, Mr. Potter is to begin with a..." Voldemort stopped speaking and looked down at his suddenly wet, bare feet (McDermott had failed to bring socks or shoes). As he pondered the oddity of the pool of water Harry froze the puddle. Enough was enough. "Crucio!"

Harry cast a protego, but the spell slid through and Harry collapsed. Harry was solely sensation. The sensation was pain. The skin nerves were pierced with thousands of minature porcupine quills. The muscle nerves were blazed like the fire of unscratched poison ivy. His blood boiled the slow, sticky boil of homemade syrup. Therefore he missed that Voldemort likewise collapsed and writhed; the willing blood boiling; the false servants sacrificed integumentary system pierced by a thousand needles. Though the spell ended in seconds, both suffers would swear they had been under the curse for hours. The observers would later swear to their Master that he had had recovered in mere seconds, though they all knew that in fact several minutes had passed before either boy or man moved.

In those minutes Hadrian had followed orders. Snakes slid over shoes and hissed at ankles. Despite many of the followers being from the house of snakes, few had actually spent much time near the creatures and a few more of the DE's vanished with a "pop".

Harry shakily stood up. Voldemort attempted to stand, then recalled his feet were frozen to the ground. Frostbite was beginning to set in. He used the fastest means available to get rid of the offending ice, he turned it to steam. Steam that promptly burned his skin.

Harry again saw no point in standing idle while his foe was distracted. He wrapped his palm about the bakulu talisman and called on the spirit of his parents. No ghost appeared. No visible echoes. But his mind became immersed in their tales, not in sequence; they came all at once like synchronized swimmers all rising from below the surface of the pool then breaking off into unique dances.

His mother, after Padfoot had pooped in the yard ten too many times, had charmed the grass to stand up and solidify like thousands of toothpicks, causing Padfoot to, '_Yelp_!' when next he went out for a potty break. Harry cast the spell. When Voldemort stepped forward to send off a hex his frostbit, steam burnt foot landed on the tiny spears. Reflexively, he jumped off that foot and hopped around on the other. Which was a mistake, because now _both_ feet sported tiny red dots.

Voldemort busied himself with conjuring shoes, and then dealing with the pain of having them on his damaged feet. During this Harry tried a finite on the dome to no effect. Then he recalled Aries, the warrior ram. Harry chanted in Greek, "Aries, your deeds are known. Your protection just and swift. Free me from my opressor." An etherial blue ram with stars for horns descended from the sky and shattered the dome. It fell like sparkling snow. Harry accioed Hadrian then attempted to accio the goblet, but like the eggs in the dragon task, it had been charmed to resist such spells. From the cluster of his parents tales he clutched on to one of his father conjuring a rope, lassoing a tree branch and using it to swing into a lake with a splash.

Voldemort shot a deathly green light at the teen at the very moment that the lassoed cup flew into the boy's arms. Harry vanished and the green light ignored McDermott's bubble and struck him in the chest, felling him.

"Aaaarrrrggggghhhh!" Voldemort's rage screeched through the air, reverbertating through his thinning skin. Many tiny 'pops' went unheard over his frustrated scream. He rounded on his followers determined to take his anger out on someone and found no one. Hufflepuff's and a Gryffindor counted as no one, _right_? There stood before him three Hufflepuff's and a Gryffindor each struggling to stay still and not itch at their many stings and bites. On the ground lay the dead McDermott and a knocked out Crabb. "Loyal. Hard working. Loyal. Hard working. Foolishly brave. You can put up with a lack of common sense for loyalty and hard work and cannon fodder." Then he smirked, particularly when they stuck around for target practice. Acting as the targets of course, "Crusio! Crusio! Crusio! Crusio!" The four death eaters dropped to the ground and writhed.

Author's Note: The final two chapters are short. Unless I come up with some brilliant idea that I just have to add both chapters will be posted tomorrow.


	23. Aftermath

A blood stained, exhausted Harry arrived in front of the stands to a quietly murmuring crowd, the flashes of photographer bulbs and the sobbing of two distraught parents. Harry stumbled toward them and collapsed to his knees by Cedric's prone form. The past hour evaporated from his mind as though it had never happened and his brain was trapped in that single second of grabbing the cup as the acromantula was stabbing Cedric's frozen form. Tears burned behind Harry's eyes, but training taught him not to let them fall.

Sirius magically shoved onlookers from his path to his godson, he gathered Harry up with an arm below shoulders and knees. Harry fell into the comfort and for the first time in more years than he could count wept from the sheer overwhelmingness of it all.

"Sirius," the Headmaster looked pleadingly into Sirius' eyes, "We must question him. We must know where he has been this past hour and why he is in such a state."

Sirius was incensed, "He is in this state, Sir, because you failed to guard against someone submitting a name that was not their own. Harry will not be questioned." Sirius turned his back on the man that had failed him and his godson in so many ways. "Remus?"

Remus touched his wand to the empty popcorn bag, "Portus." Fudge started to protest, but Sirius, Remus and Harry had already vanished.

* * *

Author's Note: I have scattered notes, scenes and ideas for the continuance of this story, but not a set plot for the next part of the story. Therefore I am choosing not to include a scene in which Harry says, "He's back," because I don't know how I want that to play out yet.


	24. Bowling Your Cares Away

**Bowling Your Cares Away**

For three days Harry did nothing. He didn't speak. He barely moved. He ignored all of Sirius' attempts to distract him or get him to talk. Sirius had tried pranks, games, and conversation. But all he got from Harry was a shrug or a head turning away, or the site of the teen's back as he walked away. Harry hadn't even reacted to Sirius's suggestion that they go sit on a beach and look at bikini clad women. In frustration, Sirius sent Harry back to Hogwarts, hoping Harry's friends would have better luck of pulling him out of this funk.

But Harry was the same at Hogwarts. He'd go where he was supposed to go; do as he was told; but did nothing else and avoided speaking as much as possible. And every time he heard the repeated words, "It wasn't your fault," he ignored the words and walked away, fist clenched. Most of the time he sat with his feet on a chair, arms wrapped about his legs and his head resting on his knees.

Snape glowered at the brat that had been moping for nearly a week. Enough was enough. Snape rose from the staff table and made his way over to Mr. Isolate. "Potter, on your feet. You owe me a detention." Snape started walking and Potter followed. Both ignored the blustering of various Gryffindors.

Out the door, down the stairs and through the dim dungeon to Snape's office they went. Snape snagged a handful of floo powder and tossed it on the flames.

"In."

Harry made no comment as he stepped into the fireplace.

"Spinners End," enunciated the dour potioneer.

Harry swirled away in a spiral of green with Snape following moments later.

Snape disappeared up the stairs, returning three minutes later in jeans, a black top and his hair pulled back at the nape. Harry was already similarly dressed.

"Follow me."

Out the door, down the street and through the entrance of 10 Pin Mega Lanes. Snape paid for the shoe rental and shoved a pair at Harry. "Put them on."

Harry was still in automaton mode. He took no initiative in his actions other than to do as he was told. The only acknowledgement he gave that he even knew where they were was a blink of the eyes.

Snape stuck a bowling ball in Harry's hands. "Roll."

Harry swung the ball and let it roll towards the pins. He made no acknowledgement of it hitting the pins or how many fell.

Snape put the ball in Harry's hands again. "Again." Harry rolled. And so it went. Harry showed no change until the fifth time of this repitition, and then it was only a tightening of the lips.

All Harry wanted to do was shove the damn ball in Snape's chest and yell, "Fuck the Hell off!" Why wouldn't the man just let him sit! But he gritted his teeth and took his frustrations out on the ball and pins out of fear that if he did cuss out his teacher the man might just haul him to the mens room for a sample of the mouth washing spell, and _that_ was a life experience he could do without. Harry didn't notice that Snape had backed off and that Harry was now picking up the ball and rolling it of his own accord. But with the space Harry's mind drifted back to mentally re-watching as an enormous stinger, attached to the rump of an accromantula, pierce the motionless Cedric. His anger exploded both out and in, suffocatingly so inward, and outwards with a rashness of speed and thrust forward with each swing of the ball, unconsciously causing the machine to reset the pins nearly instantly.

As the tantrum silently roared Severus spoke quietly by his side, "Why did you stun him?"

Harry bellowed, voice cracking between youth and manhood, "Because I was trying to save his FUCKING LIFE!" That got the attention of all and sunder and for a few moments the place was silent. Harry gritted his teeth, "Don't you dare say it wasn't my fault. My choice, my decision lead to Cedric's death. The fault lies with me."

Snape looked down into the snapping, moist eyes that were daring him to disagree and Snape nodded. "Yes, and the consequence of that action will reside in your soul hence forth. It will strike you at unexpected moments, bearing you to your knees; it will effect the choices you make and actions you take, as it should." Snape watched as a chip of damaged innocence released its hold on the boy and fluttered away, and boy and man recognized each other.

"Who? What happened?" Harry sucked in his breath, not knowing if he wanted to know the answer.

"Your mother. I had never met you and I hated your father, but Lily was my friend and I did all I could to save her. But choices I had previously made and actions I had already taken had already led Death on the path to her."

Harry cocked his head and whispered, "How do you deal with it?"

"Me? Not well." Snape rose a brow, "You? You will do better."

"I'm not so certain of that."

"Those weren't words of encouragement and they weren't a suggestion. They were a command and an order I expected be followed." Snape walked over and wiped the score board clean and set it up for two. "Now, we play."

Harry looked on, bemused at the names Snape had chosen for the two of them: BAT and ASP; and then in opened mouth shock as bat wings slowly scrawled across the back of Snape's shirt. Harry tugged his own shirt to the side a bit and found a hissing asp on the back.

Snape's graceful roll crashed into the pins, knocking all 10 to the ground, then he swaggered back to Harry, "Beat that, Asp."

Harry's eyes narrowed, "You're on."

* * *

_A piece of innocences,_

_That is snatched away,_

_Is not meant to_

_Destroy your day to day._

_..._

_Neither should the theft_

_Be forgotten,_

_for it is a fall_

_we must recall._

_..._

_For to ingore_

_Is to repeat_

_To re-invite_

_The thief._

_..._

_Keep him at bay_

_So your future_

_May hold a_

_Better day._

* * *

Intended sequel: A Better Day

* * *

As to the magic displayed near muggles in this chapter:

"Muggles see what they wanna see, right Ern?"

* * *

A few people have asked why I had Cedric die. If you are truly curious about the reasons click reviews and look for the one from me.

* * *

**Story Suggestions**

If you enjoyed this story you may also enjoy:

**The Cupboard** by Guidinghand (me)

It is a oneshot of how the cupboard began.

**Snape Teaches History **by Fuelforthefunnyfarm (Please read this. It is an excellent one- shot that deserves more than its measly two reviews.)

**Harry's First Detention and Harry's First Home **by kbinnz

Each year I go back to this one and think, I'm just going to read _ -_-_ scene, because it was such a great scene. Then I'm hooked and I re-read the whole thing.

**Postcards from Harry** by Spots on a Pony

Harry goes on vacation and sends postcards to Hermione. Based on the story Make A Wish by Rorschach's Blot.


End file.
